JANET 

AT    ODDS 


ANNA    CHAPIN   RAY 


B.  CLARKE  CO 


26  8.  aSTREMONTST  & 
30  COURT  SQ.  BOSTON. 


ANNA   CHAPIN   RAY'S   STORIES 


THE  SIDNEY  BOOKS 

I.    SIDNEY  :  HER  SUMMER  ON  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE 
II.   JANET  :  HER  WINTER  IN  QUEBEC 

III.  DAY  :  HER  YEAR  IN  NEW  YORK 

IV.  SIDNEY  AT  COLLEGE 
V.   JANET  AT  ODDS 

THE  TEDDY  BOOKS 
I.   TEDDY  :   HER  BOOK 
II.    PHEBE  :   HER  PROFESSION 

III.  TEDDY:   HER  DAUGHTER 

IV.  NATHALIE'S  CHUM 
V.    URSULA'S  FRESHMAN 

VI.    NATHALIE'S  SISTER 


"'I'm  afraid  you're  very  old-fashioned,'  Janet  rebuked  him." 

FRONTISPIECE.    See  page  59. 


JANET    AT    ODDS 


BY 
ANNA  CHAPIN  RAY 

AUTHOR  or  "SIDNEY  AT  COLLEGE,"  "JANET:  HER  WINTER 

QUEBEC,"   "  TEDDY  :   HER  BOOK,"   ETC. 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  FROM  DRAWINGS  BY 
HARRIET  ROOSEVELT  RICHARDS 


Copyright,  1909, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reserved 


Published,  September,  1909 


THE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE.   U.S.A. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"  'I'm  afraid  you're  very  old-fashioned,'  Janet 

rebuked  him " Frontispiece 

"A  clicking  of  glass  and   china  showed  where 

Janet  was  busy" Page  13 

"  All  over  the  city  groups  of  girls  were  gathered, 

sewing  busily " ,,     96 

"  They  found  her  on  the  strip  of  lawn  before  her 

house" „  272 


2229213 


JANET  AT  ODDS 

CHAPTER    ONE 

"  "1VTO;    I  don't  want  to  go  to  England,"  Janet 

i.^1  said  flatly.  "  It  will  cost  money,  much 
money;  and,  next  year,  I  shall  be  a  senior  and 
have  to  have  many  clothes.  Instead,  you  are  going, 
and  I  shall  stay  here  and  try  an  experiment" 

"Here?" 

"  In  Canada." 

Mrs.  Leslie  looked  startled. 

"  Without  me  ?  " 

Janet  laughed. 

"  Don't  worry,  Mummy.  I  '11  get  myself  properly 
chaperoned.  That  is  part  of  the  experiment." 

To  Janet's  manifest  disappointment,  her  mother 
delayed  her  question.  Instead,  — 

"  But  Ronald  wants  you,"  she  urged. 

"  He  can't  have  me.  It  would  cost  quite  too  much 
for  this  year.  Besides,  you  are  blessing  enough,  and 
he  should  be  thankful  accordingly.  You  are  to  go, 
Mummy.  You  can  sail  on  the  twenty-fifth,  and  I  '11 
start  north,  the  same  night." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  To  Quebec." 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  But  where  in  Quebec  ?  " 

Janet's  eyes  flashed,  half  with  fun,  half  with! 
determination,  as  she  said  demurely,  — 

"  Louis  Street,  corner  of  Ursule." 

"Janet!" 

This  time,  Janet  was  satisfied  with  the  sensation 
she  had  produced.  Louis  Street,  corner  of  Ursule, 
was  the  Leslies'  home,  owned  by  them  for  genera- 
tions and  never  leased  until  the  lessening  family 
and  the  needs  of  Janet's  education  moved  them  south 
across  the  frontier. 

"  Yes,  Mummy,"  she  responded  quietly. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  there  ?  " 

Janet  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  caught  her 
breath.  Then  her  chin  stiffened  and,  leaving  her 
place  where  she  had  halted  just  inside  the  door,  she 
sat  down,  facing  her  gentle,  dainty  little  mother. 

"  Now,  Mummy,"  she  said ;  "  it 's  time  to  talk 
things  out ;  I  've  been  thinking  them  long  enough. 
If  you  don't  mind,  please  listen  and  give  me  all  my 
turn  first.  When  you  know  all  about  it,  I  '11  give 
you  leave  to  object  as  much  as  you  like." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  shall  object,  Janet  ?  " 

"  Because  you  never  remember  that  I  am  grown 
up,"  Janet  made  direct  response.  "  I  am  almost  a 
woman,  and  this  is  a  woman's  plan,  not  a  girl's 
freak.  You  will  believe  that  from  the  start;  won't 
you,  Mummy  ?  "  The  young  voice  quivered  a  little. 

Mrs.  Leslie's  quick  ear  caught  the  quiver.  How- 
ever, she  knew  Janet  well  enough  to  ignore  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


weakening  of  which  Janet  would  be  the  first  to  feel 
ashamed.  Janet  Leslie,  aroused,  could  rage  like  a 
small  whirlwind;  but  her  girlish  code  of  emotions 
held  no  place  for  tears,  save  in  the  rare  moments 
of  her  extremest  distress.  Her  father's  death,  her 
brother's  leaving  home  to  take  position  as  secretary 
to  an  English  lordlet,  the  missing  the  one  society 
election  on  which  she  had  staked  her  best  effort  of  her 
student  life :  these  were  the  things  that  had  brought 
the  tears.  On  lesser  counts,  Janet's  chin  might 
quiver ;  but  it  stiffened  in  time  to  preserve  her  from 
the  charge  of  frequent  feminine  wailings.  There 
was  a  stubborn  streak  in  Janet  Leslie  that  helped  her 
to  keep  her  feelings  to  herself.  It  was  the  same  with 
her  plans.  She  made  them  first,  discussed  them  later. 
Now  she  braced  herself  to  expound  her  latest  one. 

"  As  I  say,  you  are  going  to  Ronald,  this  summer," 
she  began.  "  That  is  settled.  While  you  are  over 
there,  playing  and  resting,  I  'm  going  to  see  life  on 
my  own  account." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Janet  ?  "  Mrs.  Leslie  was 
English,  so  no  wonder  she  looked  a  little  anxious. 

"  The  Frazer  lease  runs  out,  the  twentieth  of  June. 
I  'm  going  home,  to  open  the  house." 

"  Janet !     What  do  you  mean,  child  ?  " 

Janet  laughed. 

"  That 's  the  only  real  question,  Mummy.  I  don't 
know  whether  I  mean  a  house-party,  or  a  boarding- 
house.  It 's  all  in  the  way  you  look  at  it.  You 
know  things  are  going  to  happen  in  Quebec,  this 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


summer;  that  is,  if  the  place  wakes  up  in  time. 
Every  house  up  there  is  worth  its  weight  in 
gold." 

Mrs.  Leslie's  answering  nod  was  a  bit  regretful. 

"  I  know,"  she  assented.  "  I  'm  glad  you  feel 
that  way  about  it,  Janet.  It  will  make  it  easier  to 
get  Ronald  to  understand,  and  not  be  disappointed." 

"  Ronald  is  n't  a  bat,"  Janet  responded,  in  flat 
brevity.  "  However,  he  is  n't  going  to  be  disap- 
pointed, as  long  as  he  has  you." 

"  But,  if  I  stay  here,  instead  ?  " 

"  You  are  n't  going  to  stay  here." 

"  In  Quebec,  I  mean." 

"  So  do  I.  Now,  Mummy,  listen.  You  are  n't 
playing  fair,  interrupting  like  this.  You  are  going 
to  Ronald ;  you  need  the  rest.  Besides,  that 's  where 
my  plan  comes  in.  It  all  developed  out  of  something 
Mrs.  Argyle  said,  at  Easter.  She  wants  to  go  up  for 
the  last  of  July.  Rob  and  Day  are  teasing  to  go 
up  for  the  whole  summer;  but  they  none  of  them 
care  to  go  into  a  regular  boarding-house.  I  want 
to  go  up  there,  open  the  house,  let  them  come,  and 
one  or  two  others,  and  try  my  hand  at  keeping 
house." 

"  Child !    You  can't.     Who  would  do  the  work  ?  " 

"  Mary  Browne",  plus  Elsie."  Janet  leaned  back 
to  watch  the  effect  of  her  trump  card.  Mary  Browne, 
for  three  years,  had  been  the  backbone  of  the  whole 
Leslie  establishment,  and  the  Leslie  establishment, 
in  those  same  three  years,  had  won  its  reputation  as 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


the  leading  colony  of  freshmen  in  all  Smith  Col- 
lege. As  for  Elsie,  she  was  chief  housemaid,  and  a 
host  in  herself. 

Mrs.  Leslie  capped  the  trump  card  with  a  joker. 

"  Who  would  chaperon  you  children  ?  " 

"  Mrs.  Argyle." 

"  But  when  she  is  n't  there  ?  " 

Janet  smiled  inscrutably,  as  she  played  another 
trump. 

"  Mrs.  Blanchard.  Jack  is  sure  to  go  up  for  his 
vacation,  and  he  would  be  so  glad  to  have  his  mother 
with  him." 

The  trump  took  the  trick.  Mrs.  Blanchard  was 
also  English.  Also,  she  had  seen  better  days,  much 
better,  and  her  decorum  was  beyond  all  question. 
Nevertheless,  Mrs.  Leslie  interposed  a  final  barrier 
which,  to  her  mind,  seemed  insurmountable. 

"  But,  Janet  child,  you  really  don't  know  the  first 
thing  about  running  a  house,"  she  said. 

With  a  bounce,  Janet  plunged  headlong  over  the 
barrier. 

"  I  can  learn,  I  hope,"  she  said  disdainfully,  for, 
notwithstanding  her  British  birth,  she  was  now  an 
American  college  girl,  and,  as  result,  all  things  on 
earth  now  seemed  easy  to  her.  "  Mummy  dearest, 
you  are  a  prudent  old  darling;  but,  when  you  come 
to  think  it  over,  I  believe  you  '11  decide  to  let  me 
have  my  way." 

And  she  did. 

All  this  talk  went  on,  one  night  in  late  April,  after 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


the  rest  of  the  household  was  in  l>ed.  By  the  end  of 
the  first  week  in  May,  the  matter  was  practically 
settled.  By  Decoration  Day,  Mrs.  Leslie's  passage 
to  England  was  booked,  and  Janet's  plans  were  tak- 
ing shape.  By  mid-June,  it  seemed  doubtful  whether 
the  great  old  stone  house  in  Louis  Street  could  stretch 
to  meet  the  strain  which  was  bidding  fair  to  be  put 
upon  it. 

"  But  it 's  going  to  be  so  fearfully  sprangling," 
Sidney  Stayre  objected  suddenly,  the  night  before 
they  all  were  leaving  Northampton.  "  Do  you  be- 
lieve you  ever  can  make  it  go  ?  " 

With  Mrs.  Leslie  in  their  midst,  three  girls  were 
sitting  on  the  wide  veranda  of  the  Leslie  house, 
resting  their  weary  feet  after  their  labours  as  junior 
ushers  at  commencement,  while  they  discussed  the 
details  of  their  summer  plans.  Their  talk  was  des- 
ultory and  with  long  pauses,  as  suited  the  languor 
of  the  summer  moonlight,  and  of  their  weariness. 
Moreover,  long,  long  pauses  are  allowed  between  old 
friends,  and  the  trio  could  look  back  upon  a  friend- 
ship, well-tried  and  extending  over  the  past  five  years, 
a  friendship  scarred,  now  and  then  chipped  a  little 
at  the  edges,  but  totally  unbroken. 

Never  were  three  points  of  a  scalene  triangle  more 
totally  unlike  than  those  three  girls.  Janet  Leslie, 
daughter  of  a  rich  man  who  had  died  poor,  Canadian 
and  hence  a  thing  of  reservations  and  of  inherent 
shyness,  was  a  dark,  lithe,  determined  little  mortal, 
quick  to  take  offence,  slow  to  give  her  love,  loyal  to 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


the  point  of  fighting  for  that  love,  once  it  was  given, 
reticent,  self-contained  and  with  more  than  a  dash 
of  genius  in  her  composition,  a  girl  who,  though 
acutely  sensitive,  generally  ended  by  making  the 
best  of  her  limitations. 

Quite  at  the  other  end  of  the  scale  was  Day 
Argyle  who,  at  nineteen,  had  never  known  a  limita- 
tion in  her  life.  The  child  of  a  prominent  railway 
magnate,  the  only  sister  of  a  totally  adoring  brother, 
Day  had  spent  her  life  in  surroundings  which  only 
lacked  an  occasional  ungratified  wish  to  make  them 
altogether  perfect.  Strange  to  say,  she  had  come 
through  it  all,  unspoiled,  thanks  to  her  grand  unself- 
ishness and  her  still  grander  sense  of  humour.  Her 
friends  were  from  out  the  best  of  New  York  homes ; 
her  life  among  them,  instead  of  limiting  her  sympa- 
thies, had  made  her  eager  for  contact  with  others 
whose  fortunes  had  placed  them  outside  her  own 
charmed  circle.  Next  to  her  brother  Rob,  Day's 
closest  friendship  was  with  a  man  whom  she  had 
first  seen  in  the  uniform  of  a  Pullman  conductor. 
In  her  college  course,  she  had  picked  out  her  friends 
with  a  superb  unconsciousness  of  social  convention. 
The  Argyles  were  too  sure  of  their  ground  to  be  able 
to  be  snobbish;  and  Day  had  a  curious  trick  of 
choosing  people  for  themselves,  not  for  their  names, 
nor  their  frocks,  nor  even  for  their  grandfathers.  In 
spite  of  her  father's  picture  gallery,  his  private  car 
and  his  stables,  she  was  as  simple  as  Janet  herself, 
and  far  less  self-conscious.  Personally,  she  was 


8  JANET  AT  ODDS 


plump  and  pleasing,  though  without  much  claim  to 
beauty,  save  for  her  mop  of  fluffy  hair  and  her  brave 
brown  eyes  that  danced  and  dreamed  by  turns. 

Midway  between  the  girls  stood  Sidney  Stayre. 
As  outspoken  as  Janet  was  reticent,  as  downright  as 
Day  was  dreamy,  Sidney  walked  merrily,  sturdily 
along  through  a  life  which  was  singularly  free  from 
friction  and  misunderstandings.  In  fact,  Sidney's 
greatest  talent  lay  in  her  trick  of  understanding 
people,  of  putting  herself  so  far  into  their  places 
that  she  could  know  what  they  were  likely  to  do, 
and  why  they  were  likely  to  do  it.  In  a  sense,  she 
suffered  from  her  own  ability.  All  sorts  and  kinds 
of  people,  feeling  her  understanding,  promptly  took 
it  for  granted  that  she  was  their  most  devoted  friend. 
They  accepted  her  admonitions  in  good  part,  though 
Sidney  was  as  direct  of  speech  as  she  was  of  under- 
standing. However,  they  also  absorbed  her  time  re- 
morselessly; and,  in  her  more  unregenerate  hours 
and  to  her  closest  friends,  Sidney  bewailed  the  fact 
that  her  acquaintances  took  so  much  time  confiding 
in  her  that  she  never  had  a  chance  to  enjoy  her 
friends.  Her  friends  by  no  means  included  all  the 
world.  Granted  the  reason,  Sidney  was  a  born  good 
hater.  And  the  friends  divided  themselves  into  two 
classes:  Some,  and  the  others.  Some  included  the 
three  people  beside  her,  her  family,  and  five  others; 
for  them,  unflinching,  she  could  have  laid  down  her 
glad  young  life.  And  yet,  with  the  exception  of  Day 
Argyle  and  her  cousin  Wade,  the  Some,  with  one 


JANET  AT  ODDS  9 

consent,  would  as  soon  have  thought  of  cuddling  a 
steel  ramrod  as  of  petting  Sidney  Stayre. 

As  for  Mrs.  Leslie,  she  was  a  dainty  little  Anglo- 
Canadian  widow,  who  had  accepted  her  reversed  for- 
tune with  a  courage  which  had  surprised  her  oldest 
friends.  At  the  first,  she  had  opened  her  fine  old 
home  to  stranger  boarders  who  had  chanced  to  be 
the  Argyles.  Later,  yielding  to  Janet's  wish  for 
four  years  in  Smith  College,  she  had  bravely  aban- 
doned her  own  home  city,  and  taken  up  her  abode 
in  Northampton  where,  even  in  that  stronghold  of 
New  Englandism,  the  Leslie  house  had  speedily  won 
golden  reputation. 

But  Sidney's  speech  had  fallen  on  no  such  pause 
as  this.  Instead,  Janet  lifted  her  head,  as  at  a  chal- 
lenge, and  asked  abruptly,  — 

"  Why  should  n't  I  make  it  go  ?  "  And  her  tone 
was  a  bit  pugnacious. 

Sidney  laughed. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  child,  don't  put  on  your  war- 
paint. I  merely  meant  that,  apart  from  all  practical 
matters  like  meat  'n'  tater,  and  dusting  down  the 
front  stairs,  you  will  have  your  hands  full  with 
managing  your  human  menagerie.  Suppose  we  don't 
get  on  together  ?  " 

Janet's  answer  was  terse. 

"  Then  you  can  get  on,  apart.  If  you  fight,  that 's 
your  lookout." 

"  We  sha'n't  fight,"  Day  said  reassuringly. 

"  We  sha'n't,"  Sidney  echoed,  though  with  a  strong 


10  JANET  AT  ODDS 

accent  on  the  pronoun.  "  I  'm  not  so  sure  about  the 
others." 

Janet  turned  thoughtful. 

"  My  main  anxiety  is  about  Mrs.  Blanchard,"  she 
observed. 

Both  Sidney  and  Day  burst  out  laughing  at  her 
tone.  It  was  Day  who  answered. 

"  She  is  n't  fighty,  Janet." 

"  Nor  skittish,"  Sidney  added.  "  In  fact,  I  think 
she  's  rather  too  demure.  I  've  never  been  able  to 
see  how  she  could  have  for  a  son  such  a  determined 
creature  as  Jack." 

"  Jack  's  no  creature,"  Day  protested. 

"He  is,  too.  At  least,  he  didn't  happen.  Any- 
how, he  is  a  dear.  Still,  he  is  rather  a  contrast  to 
his  mother.  She  seems  to  me  as  decorously  futile 
as  one  of  her  own  balls  of  wool.  It  must  have  upset 
her  completely,  when  Jack  turned  Pullman  conductor 
for  a  living;  that  is,  if  she  stopped  knitting  long 
enough  to  be  upset" 

Again  Day  protested. 

"  She  really  is  very  sweet,  and  he  is  devoted  to 
her." 

"  That 's  just  another  proof  of  his  bigness,"  Sid- 
ney answered  swiftly.  "  A  littler  man  would  get 
fussy  at  her.  He  takes  care  of  her  as  a  big  brown 
bear  might  look  out  for  a  sleek  little  tabby-cat.  You 
need  n't  begin  defending  Jack  Blanchard  to  me,  Day 
Argyle.  If  you  do,  I  '11  proceed  to  defend  your 
Kob." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  11 

Janet  broke  in,  thoughtfully  and  with  a  literal 
recurrence  to  Sidney's  earlier  phrase. 

"  How  do  you  mean  we  sprangle,  Sidney  ?  " 

Swiftly  Sidney  converted  her  white  muslin  lap 
into  a  species  of  social  chart. 

"  This  way.  Look.  Here  are  you,  and  Day,  and 
I.  Beyond  me,  there  's  Wade  and  Irene,  and  there  's 
Paul.  Nobody  knows  what  he  may  have  turned 
into,  in  all  this  time,  and  nobody  knows  what  has 
possessed  him  to  want  to  come.  Behind  Day,  there  'a 
Eob  —  " 

"  Rob  's  in  the  circle,"  Day  objected  suddenly. 

"  Well,  Jack,  then ;  and  Mrs.  Blanchard  is  be- 
yond him,  out  on  the  hem  of  things." 

"  I  thought  you  were  importing  her,  to  have  her 
in  the  middle,"  Day  objected  again. 

Sidney  shrugged  her  shoulders  tolerantly. 

"  She  's  soft ;  she  '11  pack  in  anywhere.  And  then, 
there  's  Amy  Browne.  She  is  your  contingent,  Day. 
Who  's  to  room  with  her,  Janet  ?  You  said  we  all 
would  have  to  double  up." 

Janet  rose,  crossed  the  veranda  and  stepped  out 
into  the  white  moonlight,  which  brought  all  sorts  of 
dusky  shadows  into  her  dark  hair  and  betrayed  the 
fun  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  put  Amy  Pope  in  with  her ;  it 's  so  much 
easier  to  have  one  '  Amy's  room '  than  two.  At 
present,  I  am  grudging  the  space  I  have  to  give  to 
Paul.  It  seems  a  shame  to  waste  an  entire  room  on 
him." 


12  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Sidney  planted  her  elbows  on  her  knees  and  rested 
her  chin  in  her  palms. 

"  If  he  has  grown  up  along  the  lines  he  promised," 
she  said  thoughtfully ;  "  no  one  room  can  hold  him. 
He  probably  will  fill  all  space.  Paul  Addison  him- 
self is  a  factor  to  be  reckoned  with;  and  when  you 
add  to  that  his  sophomorehood  —  " 

"  It  is  precisely  nine  hours  since  we  ceased  to  be 
juniors,"  Day  interrupted.  "  I  really  would  n't  begin 
to  put  on  airs  too  soon,  Sidney." 

Heedless  of  the  admonition  to  her  friend,  Janet 
faced  about  with  one  of  the  sudden  changes  of  mood 
so  characteristic  of  her. 

"  Girls,"  she  said  abruptly ;  "  I  don't  want  to  be 
too  horrid ;  but  we  can  talk,  all  summer  long.  This 
is  — "  she  shut  her  teeth  for  an  instant ;  "  is  my 
last  night  with  mummy  until  next  fall.  I  rather 
think  you  'd  best  go  home  and  go  to  bed.  You  must 
be  very  tired." 

However,  in  spite  of  her  advice  to  the  others,  it 
was  a  long  two  hours  later  when,  clinging  fast  to 
the  mother  hand,  Janet  Leslie  went  slowly  up  the 
stairs. 


A  clicking  of  glass  and  china  showed  where  Janet  was 
busy."  —  Page  13. 


CHAPTEK   TWO 

EXACTLY  one  week  later,  the  Leslies'  great  stone 
house  in  Louis  Street  was  humming  with  un- 
wonted sounds  of  toil.  Mary  Browne,  huge  and 
hilarious,  had  abandoned  her  pots  and  pans  for  the 
sake  of  the  front  stairs  and  hall  which  she  was 
scrubbing  until  the  fine  old  oak  shone  like  a  mirror. 
Upstairs,  Elsie  was  polishing  the  furniture  of  the 
bedrooms,  hunting  out  fresh  linen  and  plumping  up 
pillows  and  mattresses  as  if  the  household  health 
depended  on  her  ministrations.  The  sound  of  her 
blows  was  echoed  from  the  back  yard  where  French 
John  was  beating  rugs,  while  a  jangling  of  keys, 
followed  by  a  clicking  of  glass  and  china,  showed 
where  Janet  was  busy,  taking  out  the  best  dishes  and 
ornaments  which  had  been  packed  away  when  the 
house  was  leased. 

From  cellar  to  the  garret  tucked  away  between  the 
quaint  old  upper  dormers,  the  whole  place  stood  open 
to  the  fresh  June  air.  It  had  been  Mary  Browne's 
doing,  this  wholesale  overturning  of  the  house,  for 
Mary  Browne  had  sniffed  disdainfully,  as  she  fol- 
lowed Janet  into  the  hall,  three  days  before. 

"  It  smells  just  for  all  the  world  like  a  tenement, 
Miss  Janet  dear,"  she  had  averred.  "  Rented  houses 
has  a  flavour  to  themselves ;  there 's  nothing  else 


14  JANET  AT  ODDS 


quite  like  it.  Your  mother  would  have  a  fit,  if  she 
was  here.  We  '11  open  the  windows  quick  and  get 
the  strangers  out,  and  the  Leslies  back  in."  And  the 
bump  and  clatter  of  a  casement  added  emphasis  to 
her  words. 

That  had  been  three  days  before.  Since  that  time, 
Mary  Browne  had  been  most  active  in  living  up  to 
her  theory.  She  had  gone  to  Canada  to  cook;  but 
she  was  a  cheery,  buxom  soul  who  was  ready  to  turn 
her  hand  to  whatever  need  arose,  and  now  her  hands 
were  full.  She  and  Elsie  had  had  many  a  long  dis- 
cussion with  Mrs.  Leslie,  the  past  few  weeks;  she 
and  Elsie  had  talked  longer  still  together,  that  first 
night  in  their  room  among  the  dormers,  while  their 
young  mistress  lay  asleep  below.  Warm-hearted, 
loyal  Irishwomen  both,  they  adored  Janet,  admired 
her  sturdy  determination  to  carry  out  a  summer 
plan  which  would  have  filled  with  fear  the  heart 
of  many  an  older  housekeeper  with  a  far  larger  staff 
of  servants. 

"  It 's  a  big  old  house  for  the  two  of  us  to  run, 
Elsie,"  was  Mary  Browne's  ultimatum ;  "  and,  if  the 
child  keeps  on,  she  '11  have  it  stuffin'  full,  with  all 
her  people.  Still,  we  '11  make  it  do,  between  the 
two  of  us.  We  've  worked  before ;  and  there  '11  be 
the  fun  now  and  then,  with  all  these  new  sights  to 
see.  Let  the  child  have  her  way,  if  she  wants  it, 
and  turn  a  pretty  penny,  while  she 's  having  it. 
Next  year,  if  we  live  it  through,  we  '11  all  spend  the 
summer  in  a  rolling  chair  at  Atlantic  City  on  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  15 

profits."  And,  six  minutes  later,  she  was  snoring, 
her  open  mouth  still  creased  with  the  smile  she  had 
accorded  to  her  own  prediction. 

For  the  next  three  days,  Mary  Browne  and  Elsie 
appeared  to  be  doing  their  best  to  make  their  rolling 
chairs  a  necessity.  Long  before  Janet  was  awake  in 
the  morning,  they  were  hard  at  work,  scrubbing, 
airing,  sorting,  settling  down.  Three  sketchy  meals 
interrupted  the  day,  and  the  day's  work  ended  long 
past  the  late  June  twilight.  There  was  much  to 
be  done,  for  Janet's  plan  was  now  an  established 
fact,  and  the  first  instalment  of  Janet's  house-party 
was  scheduled  to  arrive,  that  Saturday  afternoon. 

It  was  Day  Argyle  who  ordained  that  it  was  to 
be  called  a  house-party. 

"  Is  n't  it  your  house,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  "  she 
demanded.  "  And  are  n't  you  inviting  us  ?  " 

Janet  laughed. 

"  Some  of  you,"  she  conceded.  "  Still,  I  was  under 
the  impression  that  you  and  Rob  invited  yourselves, 
and  then  invited  Jack." 

Day  disdained  the  concession. 

"  Besides,  what  if  we  do  —  well,  cooperate  in  the 
financing  ? "  she  demanded  again.  "  We  might  as 
well  do  that  as  bankrupt  ourselves  in  tipping  a  whole 
row  of  greedy  servants.  It  amounts  to  the  same 
thing  in  the  end.  No;  it's  just  a  regular  house- 
party,  Janet,  with  you  as  hostess.  If  only  Mother 
Leslie  could  have  been  there,  too!  " 

Janet's  sigh  was  a  little  bit  forlorn. 


16  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"Yes,  but  —  " 

Day  interrupted. 

"  You  '11  lose  your  grip,  if  you  sigh  like  that, 
Janet,"  she  admonished  her  friend.  "  Your  mother 
is  tired,  after  three  years  of  girls.  Moreover,  Ronald 
wants  her,  and  he  deserves  his  turn.  Imagine  the 
poor  fellow  without  a  soul  to  wink  at,  when  Lord 
Axmuthy  gets  too  preposterous !  It  would  have  been 
lovely  to  have  had  your  mother;  but  we  can  amuse 
each  other,  till  my  mother  gets  there,  and  Mrs. 
Blanchard  will  do  for  decorum's  sake." 

"  Yes,  if  I  'd  ever  seen  her."  Janet's  assent  was 
rather  grudging. 

Day  continued  her  reassuring  chatter. 

"  But  the  rest  of  us  have.  She  is  a  nice  little 
thing,  a  good  deal  like  a  fresh  marshmallow,  sweet 
and  soft.  And  she  '11  sit  in  a  corner,  all  day  long, 
knitting  and  purring  away  about  her  godmamma  who 
was  third  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  —  Something. 
Poor  dear  little  lady !  She  is  such  reduced  gentility, 
and  it  does  so  go  against  the  grain !  " 

Janet  was  sensible,  but  very  tired.  For  that  last 
reason,  she  flushed  hotly. 

"  It  does  with  all  of  us,  Day." 

There  was  an  instant's  pause.  Then  Day  rose, 
crossed  the  room  and  laid  her  two  hands  on  Janet's 
shoulders. 

"  You  know  I  did  n't  aim  that  at  you,  dearie," 
she  said  directly.  "  You  are  n't  reduced.  You  Les- 
lies are  ten  times  as  splendid  as  you  would  have 


JANET  AT  ODDS  17 

been,  if  everything  had  gone  on  in  the  old  way.  I 
hate  to  say  it  out,  for  it  seems  like  slandering  Mrs. 
Blanchard;  but  you  must  see  the  difference.  She 
will  wear  Bonnet  silk  and  cluny  lace,  and  then  she 
sits  down,  and  gets  plaintive,  while  Jack  supports 
her.  You  are  up  and  busy,  every  one  of  you,  doing 
things  to  support  yourselves.  As  result,  you  are 
getting  stiff  backbones,  and  she  is  turning  to  a 
jellyfish." 

"  Poor  Jack !  "  Janet  said  thoughtfully. 

Again  Day  opposed  her,  and  quickly. 

"  Not  a  bit.  It 's  made  him  grow  strong  enough 
to  do  for  the  two  of  them.  But,"  her  mood  changed 
swiftly ;  "  is  n't  it  good  he  's  to  have  so  long  a  vaca- 
tion? Rob  settled  it,  wheedled  daddy  into  saying 
that  Jack  has  been  overworking  and  needs  at  least 
six  weeks  to  pull  himself  together." 

"Has  he?" 

Day's  eyes  showed  her  worry. 

"  Honestly,  Janet,  I  'm  afraid  he  has.  When  I 
was  home,  last  time,  I  was  shocked  to  see  how  thin 
and  tired  he  looked.  Mother  spoke  of  it,  too.  My 
father  does  n't  mean  to  put  too  much  on  him ;  but 
Jack  is  so  useful  and  so  willing  that  it  is  almost 
impossible  not  to  let  him  overwork.  I  wrote  to 
Rob,  and  Rob  went  right  to  the  point  and  struck 
for  a  long  vacation.  Jack  rebelled ;  but  there  's  a 
substitute  hired  to  take  his  place,  and  he  can't  do 
anything  now  but  give  in." 

"  Then  he  '11  be  up  —  ?  "  Janet's  pause  was  one 
of  question. 

2 


18  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  The  sixth.  The  rest  of  us :  Rob  and  I,  Sidney, 
Irene  and  the  two  Amys  will  be  up,  the  twenty-ninth. 
When  does  Sidney's  cousin  come  ?  " 

"Paul?    The  third." 

"  I  wonder  how  he  will  fit  in  with  the  rest  of 
us,"  Day  said  thoughtfully. 

"  We  used  to  be  great  chums,  four  years  ago.  Still, 
that 's  a  good  while,  and  none  of  us  have  seen  him 
since.  Strange  that  he  wanted  to  come!  But  I 
don't  worry  about  him." 

"  What  is  the  worry,  dearie  ? "  Day  inquired. 

And  Janet  answered  briefly,  — 

"  Mrs.  Blanchard." 

However  Mrs.  Blanchard,  arriving  in  Quebec  the 
same  night  of  Janet's  advent,  proved  to  be  impossible 
as  a  source  of  worry.  She  was  as  sleek  and  gentle 
and  contented  as  a  Persian  kitten;  she  was  as  de- 
corous as  Beacon  Hill  and  as  placid  as  Westminster 
Abbey.  Moreover  and  most  important  of  all,  she  won 
the  heart  of  Mary  Browne  completely  by  her  whole- 
hearted approbation  of  Mary  Browne's  creamed  pota- 
toes and  the  spotless  state  of  Mary  Browne's  kitchen 
floor.  Young  as  she  was  in  the  ways  and  lore  of 
the  housekeeper,  Janet  already  realized  that,  in  a 
party  like  her  own,  it  was  much  more  important 
that  the  guests  should  have  the  approval  of  the 
kitchen  than  the  liking  of  the  parlour.  And  Mary 
Browne,  albeit  with  certain  attributes  of  the  angels, 
yet  had  her  own  dislikes. 

Nevertheless,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  feel 


JANET  AT  ODDS  19 

dislike  of  Mrs.  Blanchard.  She  was  far  too  colour- 
less for  that;  but  Janet,  daily  more  tired,  more 
homesick  for  her  own  absent  mother,  forgot  the  colour- 
lessness in  the  comfort  and  found  herself  submitting 
to  the  coddling,  coaxing  ways  of  Mrs.  Blanchard  with 
an  enjoyment  that  surprised  herself.  By  bedtime  on 
the  third  evening,  when  the  house  was  all  in  order 
and  Janet  could  give  herself  time  to  sit  down  and 
contemplate  her  rough,  red  hands  and  frayed  finger- 
nails, she  was  ready  to  admit  that  Mrs.  Blanchard, 
knitting  by  the  droplight,  was  a  most  comfortable 
centrepiece  for  their  prospective  group. 

Meanwhile,  the  prospective  group  was  having  ad- 
ventures on  its  own  account. 

Jack  had  seen  them  off  at  ISTew  York:  an  infinite 
number  of  bags,  umbrellas,  magazines  and  boxes  of 
candy,  five  girls  and  Rob  Argyle. 

"  Rather  like  a  Mormon  colony,"  he  had  observed, 
as  he  followed  Day  into  the  car.  "  However,  Rob, 
I  must  say  you  look  equal  to  your  responsibility." 

Rob,  helping  the  porter  to  stow  away  the  luggage, 
faced  about,  with  a  laugh.  In  truth,  Rob  Argyle  did 
look  equal  to  most  things,  his  approaching  senior 
dignity  at  Harvard  among  them.  He  was  a  big, 
broad-shouldered,  jovial  fellow  with  a  thatch  of  yel- 
low hair,  the  jolliest,  truest  blue  eyes  conceivable, 
and  a  little  limp  wrhich  he  would  always  carry  as 
souvenir  of  the  day  he  had  gained  great  glory  on 
the  football  field.  In  reality,  he  was  a  singularly 
handsome  boy;  but  he  was  such  an  all-round  good 


20  JANET  AT  ODDS 


fellow  that  no  one  ever  stopped  to  think  much  about 
his  looks. 

"  I  'm  not  responsible  for  this  crowd,"  he  averred ; 
"  excepting  Day,  that  is.  I  suppose  a  fellow  is  al- 
ways bound  to  be  responsible  for  his  little  sister." 

Jack  shook  his  head  at  the  bag  in  his  hand. 

"  Not  on  your  life,  Rob.  It 's  generally  the  other 
way  about,  as  far  as  you  and  Day  are  concerned. 
She  clucks  over  you,  like  a  motherly  hen.  There ! 
That  all  right,  Sidney  ?  Sure  ?  There  's  the  call 
to  go.  Take  care  of  yourselves,  and  tell  Janet  I  '11 
be  up,  next  week." 

Day  followed  him  to  the  door. 

"  I  do  wish  you  were  coming  with  us,  Jack." 

"  To  help  Rob  out,  in  case  of  emergencies  ?  "  he 
asked,  as  his  strong  hand  shut  on  her  slim  one. 

"  Yes,  and  to  look  out  for  me.  With  you  and  Rob, 
I  always  feel  safe  enough  to  defy  emergencies,"  she 
said.  "  Besides,  it  would  be  so  much  more  fun." 

He  gave  her  hand  one  final  squeeze. 

"  The  fun  comes  later,  Day.  Take  care  of  your- 
self and  Rob,  till  I  get  there  to  do  it  for  you.  Good- 
bye." And  he  was  gone. 

Day  lingered  in  the  vestibule  until  all  chance  of 
a  backward  glimpse  of  Jack  had  lost  itself  in  the 
brick  walling  of  the  tunnel.  During  the  past  three 
or  four  years,  the  girl  had  grown  increasingly  fond 
of  this  young  Canadian,  taken  into  her  father's  office, 
then  into  their  own  home  life  out  of  surroundings 
quite  alien  to  any  she  had  known.  In  a  sense,  he 


JANET  AT  ODDS  21 


was  like  an  adopted  brother;  he  had  gained  her 
trust,  her  liking,  then  her  love.  True,  he  could 
never  stand  in  Rob's  place  in  her  life;  but  Day's 
life  was  large  enough  to  give  room  for  two.  Between 
the  two,  she  never  sought  to  make  comparison.  It 
was  enough  for  her  that  her  own  best  times  always 
happened  when  both  the  boys  were  with  her. 

It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock,  next  morning,  when 
Rob  parted  the  curtains  of  his  section  and  stepped 
out  into  the  aisle,  as  sleek  and  smiling  as  if  he  had 
just  come  from  his  own  room  at  home.  His  blue 
eyes  widened  in  astonishment,  as  they  moved  from 
Sidney,  reading  in  Day's  section  across  the  aisle,  to 
the  open  door  of  the  stateroom  where  his  sister  was 
chattering  with  Irene  and  the  two  Amys. 

"  I  infer  I  overslept  myself,"  he  observed  so  sud- 
denly that  Sidney,  oblivious  of  his  arising,  started 
and  dropped  her  magazine  between  the  seats. 

"  I  infer  you  did.  No ;  don't  get  it.  It  is  n't  worth 
the  trouble,  and  you  '11  only  bump  your  head.  I  sup- 
pose there  's  no  especial  sense  in  asking  if  you  rested 
well." 

"  Don't  I  look  it  ?  What  time  is  it  ?  "  He  glanced 
at  his  watch.  "  Nine  o'clock !  Jove !  I  thought  I 
was  hanging  on  to  the  tail  of  the  lark.  Breakfast 
ready  ?  " 

"  Readier  than  we  are." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Merely  that  breakfast  is  sixty-four  miles  off." 

"Sidney!      Get    out!      That's    a   nice   fable   to 


22  JANET  AT  ODDS 

narrate  to  a  starving  man.  Where  are  we,  any- 
how?" 

"  Sitting  on  the  track,  a  mile  below  Newport. 
We  've  been  here  since  five  o'clock,  or  so." 

"  Why  did  n't  you  tell  the  conductor  to  mote 
ahead?" 

"  There  's  been  some  sort  of  delay  to  the  Boston 
end  of  the  train,"  Sidney  replied  tranquilly.  "  We  're 
waiting  for  it  to  catch  up." 

"How  long?" 

"  Till  it  gets  here." 

Rob  lifted  up  his  voice,  quite  unmindful  of  the 
brace  of  travelling  salesmen,  comparing  notebooks 
at  the  other  end  of  the  car. 

"Oh,  Day!" 

Day  appeared  on  the  stateroom  threshold,  with  a 
trio  of  faces  behind  her. 

"  Waked  up,  sleepyhead  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  Merciful  Moses,  yes !  And  I  am  hungry  within 
me.  Have  n't  you  girls  got  something  to  eat  ?  " 

"  Chocolates." 

Rob  made  a  wry  face. 

"  At  this  hour  of  the  morning  ?  Bah !  That 's 
girl  all  over.  But  you  must  have  something  solid 
to  gnaw  on,  in  all  those  bags." 

Interrogation,  however,  proved  that  they  had  noth- 
ing more  sustaining  than  the  box  of  salted  almonds 
which  Amy  Browne  produced  from  the  depths  of  her 
belongings.  Rob  waved  them  aside  disdainfully. 

"  They  would  n't  fill  a  corner  of  my  appetite.     I 


JANET  AT  ODDS  23 


want  food,  Amy,  man  food,  not  girl  pickings."  And, 
that  hope  vanished,  he  fell  upon  the  button  of  the 
porter's  bell. 

He  emerged,  smiling,  from  his  conference  with 
the  porter;  then  he  proceeded  to  make  known  the 
cause  of  his  smiles. 

"  He  says  we  're  stuck  here  for  at  least  two  hours 
more.  There  's  been  some  sort  of  a  small  accident 
to  the  Boston  train,  and  we  have  orders  to  wait  and 
condole  with  the  fragments." 

"  Two  hours !  "  Sidney  rebelled.  "  What  non~ 
sense,  Rob !  " 

"  There  are  some  through  passengers  who  might 
not  agree  with  you.  However,  that 's  not  the  point. 
If  we  walk  up  the  track  for  about  a  mile,  we  '11  find 
a  passable  hotel  where  we  can  get  an  apology  for  a 
breakfast.  The  train  will  pick  us  up,  when  it  comes 
along.  Who  's  for  trying  it  ?  " 

They  all  were,  it  appeared ;  and  the  walk,  coupled 
with  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  developed  an  appetite 
which  took  away  all  need  of  apology  on  the  part  of 
the  breakfast.  Even  the  girls  fell  upon  the  over- 
done eggs  and  the  underdone  chops  with  relish,  and 
Rob  made  a  mighty  meal.  When,  at  long  length,  he 
had  finished,  he  gave  a  sigh  of  full  content. 

"  I  'm  better  now,  lots  better,"  he  observed.  "But," 
his  blue  eyes  wandered  along  the  row  of  empty 
dishes ;  "  I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  don't  feel  sorry  for 
the  through  passengers,  when  they  come  in  to 
breakfast." 


24  JANET  AT  ODDS 

There  were  but  two  of  the  through  passengers, 
however;  and  the  hush  of  expectancy  became  an 
utter  silence,  as  they  made  their  long-awaited  advent 
in  the  car.  Even  the  travelling  salesmen  stayed  their 
talk  and  stared;  while  the  five  girls  caught  their 
breath  in  wonder,  and  Rob  so  far  forgot  his  manners 
as  to  murmur, — 

"  Heavenly  Mike !    what  next  ?  " 

The  porter  came  in  first,  his  face  clothed  in  one 
immense  grin.  In  one  hand,  he  carried  the  most 
immaculate  of  suitcases  whose  end  bore  the  unmis- 
takable label  of  a  college  banjo  club.  The  other 
fingers  were  shut  around  an  equally  immaculate  um- 
brella and  a  jointed  fishing-rod,  together  with  the 
handle  of  a  limp  string-bag  whose  assorted  contents, 
a  bit  too  openly  displayed  to  suit  most  tastes,  were 
topped  with  a  good-sized  bottle  of  milk.  Behind 
him,  more  decorous  by  reason  of  his  rank  and  smoth- 
ering his  amusement  as  best  he  might,  walked  the 
conductor,  bearing  in  his  arms  a  sloppy,  blue-satin- 
coated  baby.  In  the  rear  of  the  procession  came 
the  apparent  owner  of  the  baby,  a  tall,  broad-shoul- 
dered stripling  of  perhaps  eighteen,  well-bred,  well- 
clothed,  yet  walking  with  the  awkwardness  which 
comes  with  extreme  self-consciousness,  and  blushing 
to  the  very  lashes  of  his  honest  gray  eyes. 

The  pause  lasted  until  the  new  passenger  had 
seated  himself,  made  what  lap  he  could  and  received 
into  that  lap  the  sloppy  baby.  Then,  as  the  engine 
whistled  and  the  car  moved  slowly  northward,  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  25 

groups  began  to  talk,  with  an  absorption  in  their 
own  concerns  which  amounted  wellnigh  to  frenzy. 

Later,  Rob  came  with  information  gleaned  from 
his  talk  with  the  conductor.  He  imparted  it  cau- 
tiously and  by  bits,  however,  for  the  stranger's  seat 
faced  their  group,  and  Rob  had  no  mind  to  be 
caught  discussing  his  chance  neighbours. 

"  That  poor  chap's  work  is  cut  out  for  him,  to-day," 
he  reported,  with  a  chuckle.  "  I  'm  thankful  I  'm 
not  in  his  shoes." 

Day  looked  up  from  the  cards  she  was  dealing  out 
to  Irene  and  the  Amys. 

"  You  probably  could  n't  get  them  on,"  she  said. 

"  Don't  want  to.  They  'd  pinch,  in  every  sense. 
Listen,  girls,  and  let  the  game  go  hang.  There  was 
a  sure-enough  accident  to  the  Boston  train,  rather 
a  bad  one,  I  fancy.  The  baby's  mother  had  some 
ribs  broken,  and  —  " 

Irene,  the  oldest  of  the  group,  looked  up  in  quick 
pity. 

"  Oh,  the  poor  little  thing !  "  she  said. 

Rob  chuckled. 

"  Which  ?  You  '11  change  your  cry,  when  you  hear 
it  all.  She  was  going  to  see  her  father  in  Quebec, 
or  somewhere  near  there.  Instead,  she  had  to  be 
switched  off  to  a  country  hospital.  This  fellow  — 
he  's  a  Williams  man  —  was  the  only  other  person 
going  through,  and  the  conductor  bamboozled  him 
into  offering  to  take  the  youngster  along  and  hand 
him  over  to  his  grandaddy." 


26  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Rob !     Then  he  is  n't  the  baby's  papa  ?  " 

"  Does  he  look  it  ?  " 

For  her  only  answer,  Amy  Pope  let  her  gaze  rest 
upon  the  clothes,  the  haberdashery,  the  freckled  face, 
the  honest  eyes  of  the  boy  before  her,  then  on  the 
limp  and  squirming  baby  that  hung  upon  his  shoul- 
der. Then,  in  a  denial  too  strong  to  be  expressed  in 
any  words,  she  shook  her  head. 

"  Do  go  and  talk  to  him,  Rob,"  Day  begged  him. 
"  It  must  be  horrible  for  him  to  sit  there  alone,  and 
know  we  all  are  watching  him.  Really,  you  ought 
to  try  to  help  him  out." 

But  Rob  was  obdurate. 

"  Not  much,  Day,"  he  answered.  "  I  'm  not  out 
collecting  any  new  acquaintances.  Moreover,  in  his 
place,  I  'd  rather  stay  incog.,  and  put  it  through 
alone." 

And  the  stranger  did  put  it  through  alone,  save 
for  the  handy  ministrations  of  the  porter  who,  to 
all  appearing,  had  spent  his  life  amid  a  score  of 
limp  and  lopsy  babies.  Together,  they  removed  the 
gorgeous  bonnet  and  the  faded  blue  satin  coat;  to- 
gether, they  administered  milk  with  a  zeal  which 
deluged  their  knees  and  left  the  baby  strangling; 
together,  turn  by  turn,  they  entertained  the  baby, 
the  one  holding  him  upright  and  shaking  him  a 
little,  while  the  other  waved  watches  and  shiny 
knives  and  shoe-horns  before  his  bored  and  supercili- 
ous eyes.  And  so  the  long  hours  wore  away,  and 
with  the  hours  the  miles,  until  at  last  the  train  was 


JANET  AT  ODDS  27 


on  the  heights  at  Harlaka,  ready  to  slide  down  the 
long  grade  that  leads  to  Levis. 

Then  came  the  final  tussle,  that  of  getting  the  baby, 
cross  now  and  proving  the  lustiness  of  his  lungs, 
back  into  his  coat  and  bonnet.  His  adopted  parent 
tried,  and  failed,  failed  signally  and  with  ignomini- 
ous results  to  his  necktie.  He  looked  for  his  ally, 
the  porter ;  but  the  porter  was  busy,  brushing  people 
and  sorting  out  bags.  He  tried  again;  again  he- 
failed.  Then  desperately  he  put  the  child  down  on 
the  seat,  clamped  him  down  with  his  umbrella, 
wedged  the  umbrella  home  with  his  suitcase  and, 
flushing  scarlet  to  his  ears,  dishevelled,  unneat,  and 
his  gray  eyes  appealing,  he  made  straight  for  Irene 
where  she  sat  alone,  while  the  others,  in  the  state- 
room, were  busy  with  the  luggage. 

"  I  say,"  he  blurted  out,  while  he  halted  beside 
her,  cap  in  hand ;  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  you  know, 
and  all  that ;  but,  if  you  've  any  idea  how  this  kid's 
overcoat  puts  on,  for  heaven's  sake,  do  come  and 
help  a  fellow !  " 

And  Irene  went. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

"  T  T  OW  much  of  a  powwow  do  you  really  think 
JL  J.  it 's  going  to  be  ?  "  Janet  queried  indolently. 

"  Powwow  ? "  The  guest's  tone  was  injured, 
defensive. 

"  Yes,  just  about  that  From  all  accounts,  it 's 
going  to  be  a  jumble  of  Prince  and  Police  and 
pageants.  You  might  as  well  sum  up  the  three  pa 
in  one,  and  call  it  a  powwow,"  Janet  observed,  a 
little  more  caustically  than  she  was  quite  aware. 

The  guest  sniffed.  Then  she  mounted  her  high 
horse. 

"  How  American  you  are  getting,  Janet !  "  she 
remarked. 

Janet  inspected  her  fingernails  during  an  interval 
of  silence.  Then  she  laughed. 

"  Really  ?  I  had  n't  discovered  it,  Gladys.  Where 
do  you  notice  it  ?  " 

The  guest,  a  dainty  little  Canadian  blonde,  coloured 
at  the  mirth  in  Janet's  tone. 

"  In  your  point  of  view,"  she  said  a  little  tartly. 
"  You  seem  to  think  it 's  nice  to  come  back  and  make 
fun  of  Canada.  Quebec  is  n't  as  large  as  New  York, 
perhaps ;  but  it  is  fully  as  —  " 

But  Janet  cut  in,  with  manifest  penitence. 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  I  don't  happen  to  come  from  ISTew  York ;  and 
I  'm  not  making  fun  of  Quebec,  Gladys.  I  love  it 
as  much  as  you  do,  perhaps;  and  I  am  perfectly 
happy  to  get  back  here.  The  only  trouble  is,  it 
does  n't  seem  like  Quebec,  this  summer.  It 's  not 
been  our  way  to  go  mad  about  a  thing,  as  you  are 
doing  now." 

"  We  are  not  mad ;  we  are  interested,"  Gladys 
corrected  her. 

"Yes;   but  —  " 

Gladys  continued  her  correction. 

"  And  it  is  a  great  thing.  You  can't  be  three 
hundred  years  old,  every  day." 

"  Mercifully  not."  It  was  Amy  Pope  who  spoke 
from  a  corner  of  the  sofa. 

The  guest  frowned  at  the  obtrusion  of  this  second 
American  point  of  view.  Then  she  sought  to  en- 
lighten the  darkness  of  its  ignorance. 

"  It  really  is  going  to  be  a  great  event,"  she  said. 
"  People  are  coming  from  all  over  the  world  to  see 
it.  Besides  all  the  rest,  there  will  be  the  fleet,  and 
the  fireworks,  and  —  " 

"  Fun,"  Amy  capped  her  sentence  demurely. 
"  You  may  as  well  sum  up  your  /s  as  your  ps,  Miss 
Horth.  But  where  is  all  this  party  to  happen  ?  " 

"  Has  n't  Janet  shown  you  ?  "  There  was  dis- 
tinct rebuke  in  the  tone. 

"  We  have  only  been  here,  two  days,"  Amy  re- 
minded her ;  "  and  it  takes  a  little  time  to  get  one's 
self  unpacked  and  settled  down.  Yesterday,  we 


30  JANET  AT  ODDS 

did  n't  put  our  noses  outside  the  door ;  and,  this 
morning,  we  only  took  the  shortest  kind  of  a  walk." 

The  guest  half  rose  from  her  chair. 

"  You  'd  better  come  out  with  me  now." 

"  You  are  going  out  ?  " 

"  Yes,  for  rehearsal." 

Janet  started  into  quick  attention. 

"  Gladys !  Are  you  in  it  ?  I  thought  it  was  only 
Saint  Roch's  people,  and  that  sort." 

Gladys  Horth  settled  back  into  her  chair.  She  had 
found  the  old  friend  she  had  come  to  see,  and  she 
resolved  to  prolong  her  call  accordingly. 

"  So  it  was,  at  first ;  but  they  could  n't  make  it 
go.  Now  we  all  have  gone  in  for  it.  It 's  great 
fun ;  we  're  rehearsing,  almost  every  night,  and  all 
the  people  we  know  are  in  one  or  the  other  of  the 
two  court  scenes." 

"  What  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  'm  in  Henry's  court ;  I  'm  to  wear  a  blue  satin 
gown  and  a  monstrous  crinoline,  and  have  my  hair 
in  puffs.  We  girls  are  all  sewing  on  our  costumes 
now." 

"  It  must  be  fun."     Janet's  tone  was  envious. 

"  It  is.  And  that 's  one  reason  I  came  here,  to-day, 
as  soon  as  I  heard  you  were  back  in  town.  Why 
did  n't  you  tell  us  you  were  coming,  Janet  ?  "  Gladys 
broke  off  to  question. 

Janet  cast  an  expressive  glance  about  the  room. 

"  I  wanted  to  make  sure  of  my  ground,  before  I 
advertised  it,"  she  said  whimsically. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  31 

"  You  always  did.  Is  it  a  fact  you  're  taking 
boarders,  this  summer  ?  " 

The  question  was  a  shade  too  blunt  for  the  taste 
of  Amy  Pope,  and  she  cut  in,  before  Janet  could 
reply. 

"  !N"ot  a  bit  of  it.  The  crowd  of  us  —  we  're  all 
chums  among  ourselves  at  home  —  thought  it  would 
be  good  fun  to  have  a  house-party,  this  summer,  and 
this  was  the  best  place  for  it  we  could  find.  Janet 
manages  it,  because  it  is  her  house;  but  we  all  take 
a  hand  in  the  arrangements,  all  but  Mrs.  Blanchard. 
She  's  guest  and  chaperon." 

"  Oh-h  ?  Is  that  the  way  you  do  it,  in  the 
States  ?  " 

Amy  appeared  to  find  something  infinitely  amus- 
ing, either  in  the  question  or  the  voice.  It  was  an 
instant  before  she  answered. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  then.  "  It 's  our  Knickerbocker 
ancestry,  I  suppose.  We  all  love  Dutch  treats." 

Janet  interposed. 

"  But  about  the  pageants,  Gladys  ?  " 

Gladys  recalled  herself  from  her  mystification. 

"  Oh  —  yes.  I  stopped  here,  to-day,  to  see  if 
you  would  n't  like  to  be  in  one.  They  're  not  all 
full,  by  any  means." 

"Really?"  Janet  said  alertly.  "I'll  ask  the 
girls." 

"  What  girls  ?  " 

"  Did  n't  you  know  there  were  six  of  us  here 
together  2 " 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  Oh,  yes.     But  they  are  Americans." 

It  was  Amy  Pope's  turn  to  be  blunt. 

"  What 's  the  difference,  as  long  as  we  can  act  ?  " 
she  asked. 

Gladys  Horth  smiled,  and  the  smile  held  its  own 
hint  of  superiority. 

"  Most  of  us  don't  have  to  act,  you  know.  All  we 
do  is  to  stand  about  and  look  pretty." 

"  I  was  n't  aware  that  being  an  American  dis- 
qualified one  for  that,"  Amy  responded  dryly. 

Again  Janet  interposed,  for  she  felt  that  there 
was  imminent  danger  of  her  friends'  flying  at  each 
other's  throats.  Fond  of  them  both  in  totally  dif- 
ferent ways,  she  would  have  found  such  a  situation 
the  more  embarrassing  from  not  being  certain  which 
to  second. 

"  I  think  we  'd  love  it,"  she  said,  with  all  the 
enthusiasm  at  her  command.  "  You  say  the  places 
are  n't  all  full  ?  " 

"  Not  all.  He  wants  a  few  more  people,  especially 
for  the  Francis  scene.  That  court  is  all  on  horse- 
back, and  not  all  of  us  can  ride." 

"  Alas,  I  can't  do  that !  "  Amy  sighed. 

Gladys  bent  upon  her  a  glance  of  pity. 

"  Oh,  no ;  one  would  n't  look  for  that,  you  know," 
she  said  quietly. 

Amy  defended  herself,  her  plumage  by  now  thor- 
oughly ruffled. 

"  I  used  to,"  she  explained.  "  My  pony  bolted 
once,  and  threw  me,  and  broke  my  ankle,  though; 


JANET  AT  ODDS  33 

and  it  spoiled  my  nerve  so  I  Ve  never  cared  about 
riding,  since." 

And  again  Gladys  made  answer  quietly,  — 

"  Of  course." 

"  I  '11  talk  it  over  with  the  girls  and  Rob,  to-night," 
Janet  said  hastily.  "I  think  some  of  us  may  like 
to  go  in  for  it.  At  least,  it  will  add  variety  to  things ; 
and  it  will  be  good  to  talk  about,  after  it  is  all  over. 
Must  you  go  ?  I  '11  telephone  you  about  it,  in  the 
morning." 

"  But  you  will  come  in,  whatever  the  others  do  ?  " 
Gladys  urged.  "  We  all  want  you,  Janet.  The  old 
set  are  all  in  Henry's  court;  we  count  on  you  to 
be  there  with  us." 

Janet  laughed  and  shook  her  head. 

"  Nice  of  you.  But  I  must  talk  it  over  with  the 
others  first." 

"  I  don't  see  why." 

Janet's  answer  held  its  own  note  of  dignity. 

"  Because  I  don't  care  to  go  into  it,  alone,  and 
leave  my  friends  out.  We  came  up  here,  this  sum- 
mer, to  be  together." 

"  Where  are  they  now  ?  " 

"  Sidney,  Miss  Stayre,  has  gone  to  Lower  Town. 
The  others  went  down  to  the  Island.  They  '11  all  be 
back  for  dinner." 

"  I  'm  back  now,"  Sidney  proclaimed  negligently, 
as  she  came  strolling  into  the  room,  her  hat  in  one 
hand,  her  pins  in  the  other.  "  What 's  wanted, 
Janet  ?  " 

3 


34  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  A  f  amily  discussion,  apropos  of  the  pageants. 
You  really  must  go,  Gladys  ?  I  '11  telephone  you, 
then,  in  the  morning,  after  I  've  put  it  to  vote." 

"  Who  is  the  stiff-necked  sister  ? "  Sidney  in- 
quired flippantly,  when  Janet  came  back  from  es- 
corting Gladys  to  the  door.  "  And  why  on  earth 
did  n't  you  introduce  her  ?  " 

Janet  looked  startled,  then  a  little  guilty. 

"  Sidney !  I  forgot.  You  see,  we  don't  introduce 
people  here,  not  when  they  're  calling." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Sidney  inquired  blankly. 

"  Because  —  why,  because  it 's  not  the  custom.  I 
suppose  we  think  there  is  n't  any  need.  Nice  people 
know  each  other,  and  the  others  —  well,  the  —  why, 
you  see  it  does  n't  make  any  especial  difference  about 
the  others." 

Sidney  laughed. 

"  A  nice,  humane  arrangement !  "  she  observed. 
"  The  only  trouble  is,  it  fails  to  specify  which  is 
the  nice  one,  and  which  is  n't.  With  this  haughty 
lady  and  me,  for  instance  —  " 

"  Gladys  is  a  dear,"  Janet  defended  her.  "  She 
is  one  of  my  very  oldest  friends." 

"  That  settles  it,"  Amy  responded  promptly. 
"  I  '11  take  her  to  my  heart,  no  matter  how  she  snubs 
me.  I  think  I  shall  call,  to-morrow." 

Janet  frowned.  The  friction  of  the  past  half- 
hour  had  gone  upon  her  nerves.  Moreover,  Gladys 
was  a  compatriot,  and  not  to  be  made  a  subject  for 
flippancy,  now  her  trim  little  back  was  turned. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  35 

Sidney  interrupted,  out  of  her  own  train,  of 
thought. 

"  Where  is  Roberval,  Janet  ?  " 

"  I  think,"  Amy  pursued ;  "  that  you  can  make 
yourself  a  great  deal  clearer,  Janet,  if  you  write  a 
note  instead  of  telephoning.  I  want  to  see  Miss 
Horth  again  soon,  and  I  will  carry  the  note." 

"  What  about  ?  "  Sidney  queried. 

"  Whether  we  want  to  be  in  the  pageants." 

"  Of  course  we  do,  Amy.  We  want  to  take  in  all 
the  fun  that 's  going.  Where  did  you  say  Roberval 
was,  Janet  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  say.     You  did  n't  give  me  a  chance." 

The  chance  was  still  lacking,  for  Sidney  swept  on. 

"  Paul  is  there." 

"  Paul  Addison  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He  went  there  to  spend  a  week  with  some 
college  friends,  before  coming  here.  I  've  a  letter 
here,  sent  on  from  home;  he  writes  that  he  will 
get  here  on  the  fifth.  That 's  two  days  later  than 
he  planned.  I  wish  he  'd  get  here  and  have  it 
over." 

"  What  a  cousinly  speech,  Sidney !  "  Amy  re- 
buked her. 

"  Don't  care.  He  is  Judith's  brother,  and  you  've 
seen  Judith  for  yourself.  Paul  used  to  be  a  thing 
of  joy ;  but  that  was  five  years  ago.  Nobody  knows 
what  he  may  have  turned  into  by  now." 

"  A  week  will  tell.  Meanwhile,  what  about  the 
pageants  ?  " 


36  JANET  AT  ODDS 

The  question  was  repeated,  that  same  evening,  re- 
peated and  discussed.  There  would  be  a  certain 
interest  in  being  inside  the  pageants,  not  only  .for 
the  thing  itself,  but  for  the  sake  of  having  taken 
part  in  the  three-hundredth  birthday  celebration  of 
the  quaint  old  city.  Still,  it  would  take  time,  and 
tie  them  down  to  frequent  rehearsals  and  to  ten 
days  of  constant  action.  In  the  end,  though,  the 
vote  of  the  majority  was  for  the  taking  part.  Cos- 
tumes are  always  fascinating,  and  there  is  a  charm 
in  being  on  the  inner  side  of  things.  Irene,  how- 
ever, held  herself  firmly  to  her  original  negative. 

"  Wade  won't  get  here  till  the  thing  begins,"  she 
averred,  with  a  becoming  blush.  "  He  could  n't  be 
in  it,  if  he  wanted  to  ever  so  badly,  and  you  need  n't 
think  I  'd  go  into  it,  myself,  and  leave  the  poor  dear 
to  sit  it  out  alone." 

And  the  others  applauded  her  decision.  Irene 
Jessup  had  chosen  her  own  commencement  day, 
twelve  months  before,  for  the  announcing  her  en- 
gagement to  Sidney  Stayre's  cousin,  Wade  Winthrop. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Hob  ?  "  Day  asked, 
in  the  pause  that  came  after  the  applause. 

"  That  depends.  If  I  can  get  a  job  as  mounted 
courtier,  I  'm  all  right.  Else,  I  'm  afraid  it  will 
be  no  go  for  me." 

"  Not  really  ?  "  Amy  Browne  urged.  "  You  'd  be 
adorable  in  costume." 

Rob  laughed  and  shook  his  yellow  head. 

"  Of  course.    I  was  born  for  silk  doublets  and  lace 


JANET  AT  ODDS  37 

frills.  Still,  Amy,  even  you  couldn't  desire  to  see 
me  do  the  minuet  thing  they  talk  about." 

"  I  could,  too,  Rob,"  she  answered  quickly ;  and, 
for  a  minute,  their  eyes  met.  Of  all  the  girls, 
Amy  was  the  only  one  besides  Day  who  had  known 
Rob  Argyle  before  his  accident,  the  only  one  who 
really  understood  the  change  it  had  made  in  all  his 
life. 

And  Amy  Browne,  pampered  only  child  of  a  mag- 
nificent home,  was  by  no  means  the  stuffed  Paris 
doll  she  seemed.  Under  her  gentle  serenity  lay  force 
and  generosity. 

But  Janet  was  once  more  calling  her  roll. 

"  What  about  you,  Day  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Depends  on  Rob." 

"  Day !    Fudge !  "  Rob  rebelled  tersely. 

"  Fact,"  Day  replied,  with  equal  terseness. 

"  Hang  it !    I  'm  no  spoil-sport." 

"  You  won't  be.  I  'm  like  Irene ;  I  'd  rather  sit 
it  out  with  the  man  of  my  choice  than  go  through 
the  giddy  whirl  alone."  And,  crossing  the  room, 
she  plumped  herself  down  beside  her  brother  in  the 
great  chair  where,  by  virtue  of  his  masculine  prowess, 
he  sat  enthroned. 

Rob's  arm  shut  around  her  shoulders  promptly,  al- 
though his  dignity  caused  him  to  protest. 

"  Aurora  darling,  save  my  afflicted  knee,  or  I  can't 
bestride  a  courtly  charger.  Count  her  in,  Janet. 
She  's  game." 

"  Not  unless  you  are,  Rob.    I  'm  set  on  that  point." 


38  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  I  thought,  from  all  appearances,  you  had  set 
on  me.  Go  on,  Janet.  Who  next  ?  " 

Sidney  and  the  two  Amys  gave  an  unqualified 
assent,  Sidney  because  she  was  ripe  for  any  fun  that 
offered,  Amy  Browne  because,  other  things  equal, 
she  always  cast  in  her  lot  with  the  popular  side,  and 
Amy  Pope  from  a  secret  determination  to  prove  to 
Gladys  Horth  that  Americans  could  act  well  and 
look  well,  too.  Then  the  discussion  centred  itself 
upon  the  absent  members  of  the  party. 

"  What  about  Mr.   Blanchard  ? "  Irene  queried. 

Day  forestalled  all  discussion  by  answering  se- 
renely, — 

"  Jack  ?     He  '11  decide  as  Eob  and  I  do." 

"  Well,  I  like  that!  "  Sidney  protested. 

"  So  do  I.  Jack  's  very  nice  to  have  about  one," 
Day  responded.  "What  about  your  cousin,  Sidney  ?" 

Sidney  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  Next  week  will  tell.  It  remains  to  be  seen 
whether  he  has  stayed  himself,  or  has  turned  into 
Judith's  brother.  Anything  is  possible,  in  five 
years." 

"  By  the  way,  Sidney,"  Rob  broke  in ;  "we  saw 
the  baby,  to-day." 

"The  baby?" 

Rob  laughed. 

"  Yes,  I  know  it 's  not  a  specially  apropos  subject. 
Day,  if  you  could  move  just  one  inch?  There. 
That 's  all  right.  Now  sit  still.  I  mean  the  baby  on 
the  train,  Sidney ;  the  one  with  the  adopted  parent." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  39 

"  How  did  you  know  it  was  the  same  one  ? " 

"  I  did  n't ;  't  was  Irene.  She  assisted  at  its  rob- 
ing, and  she  spotted  it  by  its  blue  satin  overcoat. 
It  was  taking  a  boat-ride  with  its  grandpapa,  and 
Irene  was  so  overjoyed  to  see  it  that  she  claimed 
acquaintance." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Bu-bu-broa — oo,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recall  it 
Is  n't  that  right,  Irene  ? " 

"  I  meant  the  grandfather,"  Sidney  corrected. 
"  Did  he  say  anything  about  the  mother  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  said  too  much,  and  he  said  it  very,  very 
much  too  fast  for  my  French  to  keep  up  with  him. 
iAs  far  as  I  could  get  the  gist  of  it,  though,  she  was 
either  dead,  or  going  to  be,  poor  soul !  " 

"  And  the  baby  will  have  to  be  brought  up  by  its 
grandmother  ? "  Day  asked  pityingly. 

"  I  also  gathered,  from  the  old  man's  hatband  and 
the  condition  of  his  buttons,  that  there  was  n't  any 
grandmother,"  Rob  answered,  and,  under  his  whim- 
sical words,  his  boyish  voice  was  grave.  "  Poor  little 
chap!  The  broken  rail  has  broken  his  life  all  up. 
The  only  comfort  is,  he  is  too  little  to  realize  what 
it  is  he  's  lost." 

Day,  still  nestled  into  the  great  chair  beside  him, 
shut  her  fingers  over  his.  There  had  been  other 
breaks  in  other  lives.  None  knew  it  better  than 
her  jovial  brother.  Her  fingers  shut  on  his;  but 
brother  and  sister  never  needed  words  to  make  things 
clear  between  them.  Instead,  she  merely  added,  — 


40  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  I  wonder  what  became  of  the  adopted  parent." 

And  her  wonder  was  destined  to  a  speedy  answer. 

Meanwhile,  the  intervening  days  passed  quickly, 
bringing  with  them  the  coming  of  the  absent  mem- 
bers of  the  party.  Dominion  Day  came  and  went, 
and  the  Fourth,  and  the  fifth  of  July  dawned,  and 
Paul  Addison  became  uncomfortably  imminent. 

To  four  of  the  girls,  the  advent  of  the  young  Bos- 
tonian  was  a  matter  of  idle  curiosity.  If  he  were 
an  agreeable  addition  to  their  party,  well  and  good. 
If  not,  they  would  make  the  best  of  him  when 
they  must,  and  leave  him  to  go  his  way  when  they 
could.  Six  girls,  all  friends  and  with  all  manner 
.of  criss-crossing  degrees  of  intimacy,  could  be  suffi- 
cient unto  themselves,  regardless  of  intruding  boys. 
Rob  was  always  an  established  fact  among  them,  and 
Jack  Blanchard  was  fast  bidding  fair  to  become  one ; 
but  they  were  different.  Moreover,  to  all  the  girls 
but  Amy  Browne  who  never  had  attempted  college 
life,  sophomorehood  seemed  a  thing  of  the  remote 
past,  and  they  were  prepared  to  look  on  Paul,  sopho- 
more of  a  fresh-water  college,  as  a  mere  child  ac- 
cordingly. That  would  be  after  he  arrived,  however. 
Till  then,  they  bestowed  upon  him  the  least  thought 
possible,  even  to  Irene  Jessup  who  was  pledged  to 
marry  Paul's  half-brother.  Only  Sidney  and  Janet, 
then,  felt  responsibility  concerning  Paul,  the  one 
because  she  was  his  cousin  and  so  in  part  the  reason 
for  his  coming  into  their  group,  the  other  because, 
years  before^  she  and  Paul  had  been  exceedingly 


JANET  AT  ODDS  41 

good  chums,  and  one  always  feels  more  or  less  ac- 
countable for  one's  chums  of  yester-year. 

Sidney  had  answered  Paul's  note,  had  assured  him 
that  she  would  meet  him  at  the  train.  At  the  last 
minute,  however,  her  courage  failed  her,  and  she 
pressed  Day  into  service  as  supporting  second.  Day 
was  nothing  loath,  and  together  they  betook  them- 
selves to  the  station  at  the  appointed  hour.  They 
had  dawdled,  going  down  the  hill,  for  Day  had  in- 
sisted upon  showing  Sidney  all  the  landmarks  of  her 
winter  spent  in  the  old  city,  three  years  before ;  and 
the  train  was  already  whistling  at  the  city  crossings, 
by  the  time  the  girls  came  into  the  square  before 
the  station.  Then,  as  the  line  of  cars  slowed  up 
and  the  passengers  appeared  upon1  .the  platforms, 
Sidney  seized  Day's  muslin-covered  elbow  and 
whirled  her  about. 

"  Look !  "  she  bade  her  friend.  "  There  's  the 
baby's  adopted  parent,  there  on  the  platform  of  the 
third  car !  " 

In  fact,  there  he  stood,  browner,  more  hilarious 
and  far  more  irresponsible  than  before;  but  just  as 
big  and  manlike  and  as  honest.  Apparently  Sid- 
ney's quick  gesture  had  caught  his  attention,  for  he 
looked  up,  met  the  eyes  of  the  two  girls  fixed  upon 
him,  recognized  them  instantly  and  flushed  scarlet, 
as  he  recalled  the  circumstances  under  which  he  last 
had  beheld  them.  All  his  irresponsibility  fled  from 
him,  and,  with  it,  all  his  poise;  and  it  was  a  blush- 
ing, self-conscious  stripling  who  stepped  down  from 


42  JANET  AT  ODDS 


the  train  and  halted  on  the  platform.  For  a  mo- 
ment, he  hesitated,  still  blushing  madly  and  look- 
ing up,  looking  down,  looking  cornerwise,  as  if 
seeking  escape  from  the  open  door  of  some  hidden 
trap.  Then,  with  an  obvious  effort,  he  pulled  him- 
self together,  and  shut  his  teeth.  The  next  instant, 
to  the  utter  consternation  of  both  the  girls,  he  had 
crossed  the  platform  and  cast  himself  upon  Day's 
neck,  with  the  astounding  greeting,  — 

"  Hullo,  Sidney,  old  chap !    You  have  n't  changed 
a  particle." 


CHAPTER  FOUR 

THE  drawing-room  door  opened  a  crack,  and 
a  voice  queried,  — 

"  Is  this  my  going-to-be  brother  ?  " 

Paul,  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  was  whistling  out 
into  the  busy  street.  At  the  words,  he  turned 
alertly. 

"You  bet!"  Then  he  parried.  "That  is,  if 
you  're  Irene.  I  don't  want  any  more  mix-ups." 

The  door  swung  open,  and  Irene  crossed  the  floor. 
Seen  in  the  strong  light  of  the  open  window,  she  was 
a  girl  who  seemed  all  brown  clothes  and  brown  hair 
and  friendly,  big  brown  eyes.  Paul  liked  her  at  the 
start.  He  also  liked  the  grip  of  the  strong,  brown 
little  hand  that  shut  across  his  fingers. 

"  Yes,  I  'm  Irene ;  and  you  're  ever  so  much  like 
.Wade.  How  is  the  baby  2  " 

Paul  laughed.  He  had  a  likable  laugh,  jolly  and 
ungrudging. 

"  Search  me !  I  left  him  in  the  arms  of  his 
grandaddy,  and  I  trust  he  '11  stay  there.  You  were 
a  sister  to  me,  all  right.  I  think  it  took  some  brains 
on  my  part  to  pick  you  out  and  set  you  working 
for  me." 

"  And  you  did  n't  really  know  us  ?  " 

Paul's  laugh,  this  time,  was  slightly  shame-faced. 


44  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  Ask  Miss  Argyle,"  he  said. 

"  She  told  me.  I  really  think  you  could  n't  have 
been  striving  for  dramatic  effect,  in  choosing  the 
method  of  your  appearing."  Irene  laughed.  "  Still, 
I  fancy  Day  will  survive.  Where  is  Sidney  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  take  off  her  hat.  I  wish  she  'd  hurry 
up.  I  'm  naturally  very  shy,  you  see,  and  she  is  my 
sole  support,  in  this  crowd  of  strangers." 

"  Except  —  "  Irene's  voice  was  suggestive. 

Bravely  Paul  rose  to  the  emergency. 

"  Oh,  you  're  going  to  be  my  step-sister-in-law, 
and  don't  count.  •  However,"  his  honest  gray  eyes 
swept  over  her  in  manifest  approval ;  "  however,  I 
must  say  I  think  old  Wadeikins  has  done  one  sen- 
sible thing  in  his  life.  I  wish  he  'd  hurry  up  and 
finish  up  the  job.  Still,  even  if  we  did  join  forces 
on  the  infant  child,  we  're  not  exactly  old-time,  trusty 
cronies,  and  Sidney  —  " 

Irene  sought  to  jog  him  on  across  the  pause. 

"  You  find  her  ?  "  she  inquired. 

Paul's  reply  was  terse,  albeit  lacking  in  convention. 

•"  Bully !  "  he  answered,  and  Irene,  instead  of 
being  shocked,  nodded  in  full  agreement. 

"  What  about  Janet  ?  "  she  asked  then. 

To  her  extreme  surprise,  both  glance  and  voice 
lost  all  their  directness,  as  Paul  answered  evasively,  — 

"I've  only  seen. her  for  a  minute,  you  know." 
Then  abruptly  he  changed  the  subject.  "  What 's 
the  Argyle  fellow  like,  Irene  ?  " 

Irene  liked  the  matter  of  fact  fashion  in  which 


JANET  AT  ODDS  45 

he  assumed  the  relationship  between  them,  and  chose 
her  as  his  temporary  oracle.  Her  voice  showed  her 
liking. 

"  Altogether  splendid.     You  '11  like  him,  Paul." 

Once  more  Paul  whistled  thoughtfully  at  the  street 
outside  the  open  window. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,"  he  answered  guardedly  then. 
"  He  looks  confoundedly  superior." 

"  Who  is  that  ?  Rob  ?  Nonsense,  Paul !  "  Sidney 
objected  suddenly,  as  she  joined  them  in  the  window. 
"  You  looked  upon  him  with  jaundiced  eyes,  because 
you  thought  he  did  n't  appreciate  your  baby.  Did 
you  know  Irene  saw  him,  a  day  or  two  ago  ? " 

"  By  Jove,  no !  How  's  the  little  chap  getting 
on  ?  "  Paul  demanded,  forgetting  Rob  completely  in 
the  more  absorbing  interest.  Then,  after  Irene  had 
told  her  story,  he  added  eagerly,  "  I  '11  tell  you  what, 
let 's  go  hunting  for  him,  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
and  see  what  we  can  find  out." 

The  girls  assented ;  but  the  Fates  willed  otherwise. 
ISText  morning,  Sidney  was  just  coming  down  the 
stairs,  and  Irene  was  drawing  on  her  gloves,  in  the 
hall  below,  when  a  crash  and  a  shriek  from  the  front 
room  above  sent  the  household  to  the  rescue,  with 
Paul  six  steps  in  the  lead. 

"  I  was  beautifying  myself  for  Jack,"  Amy 
Browne  confessed  penitently,  when  the  curtains  and 
a  chintz-covered  chair  had  followed  the  alcohol  lamp 
into  the  street,  to  the  manifest  surprise  of  a  caleche- 
load  of  tourists  beneath.  "  I  suppose  I  must  have 


46  JANET  AT  ODDS 


joggled  the  lamp,  when  I  put  the  tongs  in;  but  I 
had  just  burned  off  a  whole  bundle  of  curls,  and  I 
was  feeling  a  little  fretty  on  that  account.  What 
will  you  do  to  me,  Janet  ?  " 

"  Send  you  out  to  see  if  you  can  match  the  cur- 
tain stuff,"  Janet  told  her  practically. 

Amy  huddled  her  blue  dressing-gown  around  her, 
while  the  burned-off  tag-locks  on  her  brow  dangled 
in  limp  apology  for  the  ruin  they  had  caused. 

"  I  '11  be  ready,  in  a  minute,"  she  said  meekly. 
"  I  'm  sorry,  Janet.  I  did  n't  mean  to." 

But  Paul,  who  had  followed  the  ruins  to  the  street, 
lifted  his  voice  from  below. 

"  All  out !    Sidney  ?    Irene  ?   I  want  my  relations." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  To  go  to  call  on  the  kid,  of  course."  And  the 
group  scattered  as  speedily  as  it  had  gathered. 

"  I  say,  Sidney,  who  are  these  Blanchards,  any- 
how ?  "  Paul  asked  bluntly,  as  the  two  cousins  and 
Irene  went  tramping  down  the  Cote  d' Abraham  at 
a  pace  which  turned  all  eyes  in  their  direction,  so 
swift  was  it,  and  so  rhythmic  in  its  strength. 

"  Why,  they  are  —  "  Sidney  hesitated ;  "  they  're 
the  Blanchards,  of  course." 

"  Naturally.  But  where  do  they  come  in  ?  Whose 
contingent  are  they  ?  " 

"  Everybody's.  Jack  is,  at  least.  We  all  adore 
him." 

"  Quite  obviously,  especially  Miss  Browne." 
Paul's  tone  was  slightly  dry,  and  he  plunged  his 


JANET  AT  ODDS  47 

fists  into  his  pockets.  "  But  whose  party  is  he,  aside 
from  the  Dame's  ?  " 

"The  Dame?  Oh,  Mrs.  Blanchard?"  Sidney 
laughed  outright. 

"  Yes.    Is  he  our  sort  ?  " 

"  Paul,  are  you  going  to  turn  out  a  snob  ?  "  Irene 
asked  him  rebukingly. 

"  You  bet  your  life  I  am,  step-sister-in-law ! 
There  has  to  be  one  in  every  family,  and  I  'm  it 
for  ours.  As  for  the  Dame,  well,  my  mama  does  n't 
tell  about  her  lordly  relatives." 

"  Probably  because  she  never  had  any,"  Sidney 
suggested  remorselessly.  "  As  for  Mrs.  Blanchard, 
Paul,  we  love  her;  but  now  and  then  we  do  regret 
her  a  little  bit,  when  she  gets  too  reminiscent.  But 
Jack  is  another  story." 

Paul  shifted  his  cap  to  the  extreme  back  of  his 
head,  made  it  firm  with  both  hands,  then  once  more 
stuck  his  hands  into  his  pockets. 

"  What 's  the  yarn  ?  "  he  queried  then. 

"  It 's  Day's,  or,  rather,  Rob's.  Jack  lives  at  their 
house,  is  just  like  an  adopted  brother;  but,  when 
Hob  first  discovered  him,  he  was  a  Pullman  car 
conductor." 

"  Moses !  Was  his  mama  broken  in  an  accident, 
too?  And  will  the  blue-overcoat  baby  end  in  my 
home  as  my  adopted  brother  ?  " 

Irene  laughed  at  the  consternation  in  his  tone; 
but  Sidney  swept  on  with  her  story,  a  story  she  loved 
well,  as  holding  its  own  bit  of  unpractical  romance. 


48  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  He  was  very  nice  to  Rob,  looked  out  for  him, 
and  all  that.  It  was  soon  after  Rob  was  hurt;  he 
was  very  lame  then,  and  glad  of  the  care.  He  re- 
membered it  and,  when  he  had  a  chance,  he  intro- 
duced Jack  to  his  father.  They  took  him  back  to 
New  York  with  them,  to  be  Mr.  Argyle's  secretary; 
and  then,  the  first  thing  we  any  of  us  knew,  they 
took  him  into  their  home,  and  he 's  lived  there  with 
them,  ever  since.  Sometimes,  I  even  wonder  if  they 
know  he  was  n't  born  there." 

"  Hm !  "  Paul  meditated,  whistling  softly  to 
himself.  "  So  that 's  it  ?  Is  he  —  well  —  is  he 
conductor-y  ? " 

"  Not  one  bit,"  Irene  responded  quickly. 

But  Sidney  lifted  her  head  a  little. 

"  What  if  he  were  ?  "  she  asked,  and  her  voice  was 
ominously  quiet. 

They  crossed  to  Levis  in  a  body,  that  noon.  Six 
of  the  party  were  eager;  Rob  and  Day  were  wildly 
hilarious.  Paul  alone  held  himself  aloof  from  the 
general  mood  of  expectant  rejoicing,  held  himself 
judicial,  even  critical.  In  choosing  this  attitude,  he 
felt  he  had  reason  on  his  side.  Were  not  his  father 
and  his  grandfather  listed  in  Who  's  Who  ?  Was 
not  his  mother  an  invariable  hostess  for  every  globe- 
trotting notable  who  climbed  up  Beacon  Hill  ?  More- 
over, was  he  himself  not  a  Williams  sophomore  and 
reasonably  sure  of  his  election  into  Alpha  Delt.  ?  If 
the  others  wanted  to  be  chums  with  a  Pullman  car 
conductor,  well  and  good.  For  himself,  he  would 


JANET  AT  ODDS  49 

wait  to  see  what  the  fellow  was  like.  A  crowd  of 
girls  were  not  too  discerning  judges;  even  Kob 
Argyle  might  not  prove  himself  infallible,  good  com- 
rade as  he  had  shown  himself,  the  night  before.  Paul 
mounted  his  attitude  accordingly.  He  tumbled  off 
it,  headlong,  the  instant  that  the  train  came  in,  bring- 
ing Jack  Blanchard,  bareheaded  and  smiling  broadly, 
upon  the  lower  step  of  the  New  York  sleeper. 

And  yet,  there  was  nothing  especially  striking 
about  the  looks  of  Jack  Blanchard;  that  is,  if  one 
excepted  the  steady,  kind  brown  eyes  and  the  sol- 
dierly carriage  of  the  wide  shoulders.  Whatever 
claim  to  good  looks  he  might  once  have  put  forth 
had  been  injured  by  a  scar  across  his  temple,  a  scar 
whose  winning  had  endeared  him  to  all  his  friends. 
But  the  poise  of  his  head,  the  shut  of  his  mouth,  the 
look  in  his  eyes  now  and  then,  the  grip  of  his  hand 
and,  above  all  else,  his  laugh:  these  things  showed 
the  man,  and  the  man  was  bound  to  gain  attention, 
liking,  at  the  start.  Four  or  five  years  older  than 
the  others,  more  self-reliant  and  masterful  by  reason 
of  his  life  and  of  his  army  training  on  the  South 
African  veldts,  Jack  won  the  trust  of  strangers,  the , 
loyal  enthusiasm  of  all  who  dared  to  call  him  friend. 
And  yet,  jovial  and  kind  as  he  was  to  everybody  who 
crossed  his  path,  Jack's  friends  were  singularly  few. 
It  was  his  choice  to  keep  that  relation  a  bit  more 
sacred  than  is  the  fashion  nowadays.  Moreover,  the 
very  difficulty  of  getting  into  that  small  circle  made 
it  a  coveted  goal  to  the  outsiders  who,  otherwise, 

4 


50  JANET  AT  ODDS 


might  have  stopped  to  question  whether  one  really 
could  be  chums  with  a  man  who  once  had  worn  a 
corporation  uniform. 

A  part  of  this  Paul  took  in  at  a  glance;  a  part 
it  needed  all  the  summer  for  him  to  learn.  However, 
the  first  glance  had  led  him  to  repent  of  his  stric- 
tures, and  accordingly  he  voiced  his  repentance,  as 
he  started  to  walk  away  at  Sidney's  side. 

"  He  's  all  right,"  he  observed,  with  what  seemed 
to' him  effusive  cordiality.  "  I  'm  not  sure  you  over- 
praised him,  Sidney.  I  rather  like  his  looks.  Oh-h 
—  fudge !  "  For  he  found  himself  speaking  to  empty 
air.  Sidney  had  attached  herself  to  Jack's  immedi- 
ate bodyguard,  and  Paul  was  left  alone. 

He  annexed  himself  promptly  to  Amy  Pope,  who 
appeared  to  be  likewise  outside  the  coveted  radius 
of  Jack's  chumship.  Moreover,  Paul  had  liked  Amy 
at  the  start.  She  was  pretty;  she  knew  things,  and 
she  never  suppressed  her  views  of  affairs  in  general 
for  the  mere  sake  of  expediency.  Paul,  too,  loved 
a  wordy  tussle,  and  already  the  two  of  them  had 
crossed  swords  more  than  once,  leaving  Paul  by  no 
means  always  the  winner  in  the  skirmish.  He  had 
retired  to  bed,  the  night  before,  adoring  Sidney  as 
of  old,  loving  Irene  as  the  brother  he  was  so  soon 
to  be;  but,  down  in  the  depths  of  his  boyish  soul, 
convinced  that  his  good  times,  that  summer,  would 
centre  in  Amy  Pope.  Unless  —  ?  There  was  Janet, 
and  they  had  been  such  chums  before.  Paul  shook 
his  head  at  his  necktie,  then  gloomily  laid  it  down. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  51 

Janet  was  changed.  As  yet  he  had  been  able  to  form 
no  notion  of  what  was  going  on  inside  the  brain  of  the 
reserved  young  girl  with  the  determined  chin  and  the 
alternating  glints  of  fun  and  fire  in  her  dark  eyes. 

"  Amy  Pope  is  scheduled  to  be  my  present  She," 
he  observed  to  himself,  as  he  tucked  himself  between 
the  sheets.  "  I  like  a  fighter,  and  she  's  a  corking 
good  one,  so  long  as  she  does  n't  get  too  fierce." 

But  fierceness  was  in  Amy's  character  only  when 
she  fought  for  her  friends,  not  with  them.  Now 
she  greeted  Paul  gayly,  as  he  followed  her  on  board 
the  ferry,  then  led  the  way  to  the  bow  where  wind 
and  sun  both  struck  them  sharply,  as  they  leaned 
on  the  rail  with  their  eyes  upon  the  rock-walled  city 
across  the  river. 

"  You  did  n't  tell  us  how  you  found  the  infant, 
this  morning,"  she  reminded  him.  "  Was  he  over- 
joyed to  see  you  ?  " 

"  He  would  have  been,  if  I  had  only  found  him. 
rAs  it  was,  I  'd  mislaid  the  street  where  I  put  him, 
and  Sidney  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  meet  Blanchard 
that  she  wouldn't  give  me  time  to  look  it  up." 

Amy  laughed  softly  to  herself. 

"  The  Blanchard  microbe  ?  It  is  funny,  when  you 
stop  to  think  about  it.  And  yet,  you  can't  help 
liking  him,  when  you  come  to  see  him." 

Paul  nodded. 

:<  Yes,  he  's  better  than  he  sounds  in  the  advance 
notices.  Of  course,  if  it  were  only  girls,  one  would 
put  it  down  to  —  Beg  pardon  ?  " 


52  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  Don't  mind  me,"  Amy  besought  him.  "  Go 
right  on." 

"  I  was  going  to,  only  you  interrupted,"  Paul  as- 
sured her  calmly.  "  As  I  was  going  to  say,  if  it 
were  only  girls,  one  would  put  it  down  to  the  romance 
of  the  thing.  The  story  really  is  romantic:  leaving 
college  to  go  to  the  Boer  War,  coming  home  to  find 
his  mother  minus  every  red  cent,  and  going  to  work 
at  whatever  came.  I  suppose,"  Paul  sighed  heavily ; 
"  that 's  what  makes  a  girl  burn  off  her  lovelocks  in 
a  fellow's  honour.  But  Argyle  is  worse  about  it 
than  his  sister;  and,  from  all  accounts,  my  own 
venerable  brother  Wade  is  down  with  the  same  dis- 
ease. I  appear  to  be  the  only  one  who  has  n't  caught 
the  germ." 

Amy  cast  a  backward  glance  across  the  deck. 

"  Not  guilty,"  she  responded  quickly  then. 

"  Are  you  immune  ?  " 

Amy's  sigh  echoed  that  of  Paul. 

"  He  is,"  she  answered  briefly.  "  I  am  outside 
the  ring  of  adoring  satellites  for  the  simple,  sober 
reason  that  I  can't  get  him  to  manifest  the  slightest 
interest  in  my  existence.  When  I  'm  visiting  at  the 
Argyles',  he  treats  me  with  a  sort  of  humane  polite- 
ness ;  but  that 's  all.  He  's  never  rude ;  he  's  much 
too  nice  for  that.  He  just  forgets  all  about  me,  and 
it  hurts  my  feelings  —  hard.  There  are  times  when 
it 's  my  chiefest  wish  to  step  on  his  toes,  to  make 
him  aware  of  my  existence." 

She  looked  so  pretty,  as  she  spoke,  so  full  of  her 


JANET  AT  ODDS  53 


naughty  determination,  that  Paul's  gray  eyes  danced 
in  sympathy  with  her  whim. 

"  Agreed !  "  he  answered  tersely.     "  Let 's." 

"You,  too?" 

"  I  feel  it  in  my  bones,  and  also  in  my  heart,  I 
shall.  There  hasn't  been  much  time,  yet.  How- 
ever, as  I  said,  let  }s." 

Amy  sank  her  chin  on  her  fists,  joined  knuckle  to 
knuckle. 

"  How  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  I  'm  not  sure  yet.  I  '11  meditate.  In  the  mean- 
time, I  wish  to  find  my  kid." 

"Why  don't  you?" 

"  Because,  as  I  told  you,  I  have  mislaid  the  street. 
I  thought  I  'd  know  it  again,  because  there  was  a 
legless  boy  in  a  goatcart  on  the  corner  where  I  turned 
in.  I  left  the  kid  in  the  third  house." 

"  But  it  is  barely  possible  the  goatcart  may  have 
moved,"  Amy  suggested. 

"  Sure.  The  same  possibility  also  applies  to  the 
kid.  The  best  thing  to  do  is  to  find  the  cart,  and 
then  count  three.  I  '11  tell  you  what."  Paul  glanced 
up  at  the  city,  now  apparently  hanging  directly  above 
their  heads.  "  You  and  I  are  n't  in  this  Blanchard 
love-feast ;  we  'd  get  homesick,  if  we  sat  about  on 
the  edges  and  looked  in.  Therefore,  we  '11  go  up 
with  the  others  and  feed,  and  then  we  '11  leave  them 
to  patacake  their  idol,  and  we  '11  go  hunt  the  babe." 

"  Would  it  be  polite  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  very  sensible." 


54  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Amy  went  on  a  fresh  tack. 

"  What  shall  you  do  with  him,  when  you  do  find 
him?" 

Paul  looked  a  trifle  blank  at  the  question. 

"  How  should  I  know  ?  The  decent  thing,  I  sup- 
pose. Let 's  see.  You  pinch  the  baby  cheek,  and 
press  a  bit  of  gold  into  the  baby  palm." 

"  Press  the  button,"  Amy  suggested  irrepressibly. 

And  Paul  capped  her  phrase  as  irrepressibly. 

"  And  hear  the  kiddie  cry.  I  suspect  that  will 
be  the  cold  truth  of  the  situation.  Anyhow,  we  '11 
go.  What 's  more,  we  '11  take  him  down  some  gum 
drops." 

"  What  for  ?    He  has  n't  any  teeth." 

"  You  bet  he  has.  I  got'  my  finger  into  his  mouth 
once,  by  mistake.  And,  anyhow,  they  '11  do  for  corks, 
if  he  gets  too  outspoken." 

"  All  right.  Wait,  though.  What  about  re- 
hearsal ? " 

"  What  rehearsal  ?  " 

"  The  pageants.  We  're  all  going  out,  to-day,  with 
Miss  Horth." 

"  The  deuce  we  are !    What  for  ?  " 

Amy  explained.  When  she  had  finished  explana- 
tion, she  added,  on  her  own  account,  — 

"  I  think,  if  you  don't  mind  about  the  baby,  I  'd 
rather  go  out  there.  Miss  Horth  is  Janet's  chiefest 
local  friend;  but  she  is  very  haughty  to  all  of  us 
Americans,  and  I  'd  a  little  like  to  keep  my  eye  on 
her  and  watch  her  do  it." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  55 

Paul  reflected  swiftly.     Then  lie  laughed. 

"  They  can,"  he  assented.  "  Likewise,  they  're 
funny  while  they  're  doing  it.  It  used  to  be  a  drawn 
game  between  Janet  and  my  sister  Judith.  Me- 
thinks  I  'd  also  like  to  watch  this  one  happen.  We  '11 
call  off  the  baby-hunt  till  morning.  Meanwhile,  by 
way  of  getting  ready,  we  '11  sally  forth  and  buy  the 
gum  drops  and  a  drum." 


CHAPTER   FIVE 

«  TT7EERE  is  Paul?"  Janet's  voice  was  heard 
V  V  to  ask  in  the  hall  outside,  about  the  middle 
of  the  next  morning.  A  moment  later,  she  pushed 
open  the  door  of  the  back  drawing-room.  "  Does 
anybody  know  where  Paul  is  ?  "  she  demanded  for 
a  second  time. 

Sidney  looked  up  from  the  ball  of  wool  she  was 
winding  from  the  skein  looped  over  Jack's  out- 
stretched hands.  The  ball  matched  the  one  in  Mrs. 
Blanchard's  lap,  and  was  obviously  destined  to  serve 
as  its  successor. 

"  I  don't,"  she  answered,  while  Jack  took  advan- 
tage of  the  temporary  lull  to  scratch  the  bridge  of 
his  nose  with  one  stiff  thumb. 

"  Curious  Kow  a  chap  itches,  once  his  hands  are 
put  out  of  commission,"  he  observed  discursively. 
Then  he  added,  "  We  have  n't  got  him  concealed 
about  our  persons,  Janet.  In  fact,  I  Ve  hardly 
spoken  to  the  boy,  since  I  came." 

"  Is  n't  he  with  some  of  the  others,  Janet  ?  "  Sid- 
ney asked. 

"  I  think  not.  Rob  and  Day  have  gone  for  a 
drive,  Irene  's  writing  letters  in  her  room,  and  Amy 
just  went  out  shopping." 

"Which  Amy?" 


JANET  AT  ODDS  57 

"  Amy  Browne.  She  went  to  get  some  new  cur- 
tain stuff  to  put  in  place  of  the  one  she  cremated  in 
Jack's  honour." 

Jack  looked  up  sharply. 

"What  was  that?" 

"  Janet !  How  mean  of  you  to  tell !  "  Sidney  re- 
proached her. 

"  K"ot  a  bit  Did  n't  I  tell  Jack  I  had  put  on  my 
new  pink  muslin  in  his  behalf  ?  That 's  as  bad  as 
to  curl  up  my  front  hair  into  a  frizzle.  I  likely 
should  have  done  that,  if  it  only  had  been  becom- 
ing." And  Janet  proceeded  to  pin  on  her  hat  above 
the  smooth,  thick  hair  that  framed  her  face. 

"  What  about  Amy  ?  "  Jack  queried. 

Janet  laughed. 

"  Sidney  says  I  must  n't  tell ;  but  I  think  I  will, 
else  you  '11  imagine  greater  things  than  really  hap- 
pened," she  replied  demurely.  "  Amy  is  a  thing  of 
vanity,  and  she  knows  that  curly  fluff  of  hers  suits 
her  face  to  perfection.  By  way  of  making  it  more 
fluffy  in  preparation  for  your  advent,  she  burned 
up  the  curtains  of  one  of  the  front  windows." 

Jack  looked  mystified. 

"  I  fail  to  connect,"  he  said. 

"  Jack,  you  dear  old  innocent !  "  Sidney  mocked 
him.  "  It 's  evident  that  you  have  n't  a  sister  of 
your  own,  and  that  Day's  hair  curls  of  itself,  without 
any  help  on  her  part." 

"  So  does  Amy's ;  does  n't  it  ? "  he  asked,  so 
blankly  that  both  girls  burst  out  laughing. 


58  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  I  '11  tell  Amy  that,"  Janet  assured  him.  "  It  'a 
tribute,  to  her  skill,  and  it  ought  to  atone  for  the 
ragged  ends  she  left,  when  she  burned  herself,  the 
other  day." 

Deliberately  Jack  let  the  wool  slide  from  his  hands 
and  turned  to  face  the  girls  before  him. 

"  Do  I  gather,"  he  asked  whimsically,  yet  with! 
a  little  accent  which  somehow  showed  that  the  idea 
was  not  agreeable  to  him ;  "  that  girls,  nice  girls, 
roast  their  hair  into  frizzles  like  that  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Janet  told  him  remorselessly.  "  Also  oc- 
casionally they  roast  themselves." 

"  But  you  don't,"  he  urged. 

Sidney  halted  in  her  efforts  to  untangle  the  dropped 
skein. 

"  Merely  because,  as  Janet  says,  we  look  better 
as  the  Lord  made  us,  with  straight  hair.  Else,  we 
should  become  curly,  too.  Do  you  mean  to  say, 
Jack  —  " 

"  I  mean  to  say  I  supposed  girls,  nice  girls,  the 
girls  you  and  Day  have  for  friends,  were  just  as 
nature  made  them.  I  think  I  'm  rather  sorry  I  've 
found  out  the  truth,"  he  answered  bluntly. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  've  kept  from  finding  it 
out  till  now."  Sidney's  tone  was  thoughtful. 

Jack's  gaze  rested  on  his  mother,  trim  in  her  in- 
evitable black  silk  frock  and  little  lace  cap  and 
ruffles. 

"  I  was  busy  about  some  other  things,  you  know," 
he  reminded  Sidney,  with  a  smile.  "  There  were  n't 


JANET  AT  ODDS  59 

many  girls  in  my  life,  till  I  was  long  past  Rob's  age ; 
and,"  his  brown  eyes  turned  to  her  expressively; 
"  when  they  did  come,  they  were  n't  the  sort  that 
needed  to  improve  on  nature  much." 

Sidney's  colour  came,  and  she  returned  to  her 
knots  with  some  haste.  It  was  not  like  downright 
Jack,  this  new  trick  which  had  been  coming  in  his 
speech,  the  past  few  months.  Day  had  noticed  it, 
too;  the  two  girls  had  spoken  of  it  together,  had 
wondered  what  it  meant. 

Janet,  meanwhile,  pursued  the  question. 

"  But  you  don't  mind  it,  Jack  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  it,  if  that 's  what  you  mean."  He 
threw  aside  his  momentary  seriousness  and  laughed 
out  in  his  old  jovial  fashion.  "  I  'd  rather  take  you 
as  you  are,  and  make  the  best  of  you." 

"  I  'm  afraid  you  're  very  old-fashioned,"  Janet 
rebuked  him.  "  All  in  all,  though,  I  think  I  won't 
report  this  conversation  to  Amy.  She  might  find  it 
ungrateful,  especially  since  she  has  branded  herself 
in  your  honour.  It  really  was  a  horrid  burn,  to  say 
nothing  of  making  charcoal  of  half  her  front  hair. 
And  she  is  a  dear  little  thing.  But  has  anybody 
seen  the  other  Amy  ?  " 

"  The  dear  big  thing  ?  "  Sidney  looked  up  from 
her  knots  once  more.  "  I  have  n't  seen  her  since 
breakfast." 

"  Does  it  strike  you  that  you  have  a  lamentable 
scarcity  of  names  in  this  crowd  ?  "  Jack  remarked,  as 
once  more  he  held  out  his  hands  for  the  skein.  ' '  Two 


60  JANET  AT  ODDS 


Aniys  and  two  Brownes.  I  should  think  you  might 
get  a  trifle  mixed  up  now  and  then.  Ready,  Sidney  ? 
All  right,  only  do  hurry  up;  my  arms  are  para- 
lyzed. Oh,  by  the  way,  if  it 's  Amy  Pope  you  want, 
I  saw  her  starting  off  with  young  Addison,  an  hour 
ago." 

"With  Paul?" 

"  Yes.  They  seemed  bent  on  mischief,  too.  He 
had  a  huge  bundle  under  his  arm,  and  they  both 
were  chuckling  over  something,  as  they  went  through 
the  hall.  Steady !  There 's  another  put-through 
place." 

"  If  you  put  it  through  once,  you  have  to,  every 
time,"  Sidney  objected. 

Again  Jack's  eyes  rested  on  her  face,  and  his  smile 
now  was  not  wholly  jovial. 

"  So  I  've  generally  found  it,"  he  answered. 
"  Still,  in  the  end  it 's  worth  the  while." 

Janet,  heedless  of  the  little  allegory,  had  plumped 
herself  down  upon  the  arm  of  Mrs.  Blanchard's  chair. 

"  Tired,  dearie  ?  "  Mrs.  Blanchard  queried,  laying 
her  hand  on  Janet's  shoulder,  for  she  had  never  been 
taught  to  dread  the  result  of  coddling  the  reserved 
and  undemonstrative  young  girl. 

"  No,"  Janet  said  quaintly ;  "  Janet  is  n't  tired. 
I  rather  think  she  's  lonesome." 

"  Go  and  rout  out  Irene  and  take  her  for  a  walk," 
Sidney  suggested  practically.  "  If  Wade  gets  a 
letter,  every  day,  he  needn't  expect  to  find  them 
two  hours  long." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  61 

But  Jack  had  let  the  last  of  the  skein  slip  through 
his  fingers,  then  had  risen. 

"  And  Jack  's  tired  of  sitting  still,"  he  cut  in  sud- 
denly. "  Come  along,  Janet ;  let 's  go  for  a  good 
long  walk." 

Sidney  looked  after  them  with  unenvying  eyes,  as 
they  went  tramping  down  the  street. 

"  Is  n't  that  just  Jack  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  Then 
she  added,  also  to  herself,  "  I  think  I  '11  take  that 
young  cousin  of  mine  in  hand,  to-night,  and  give  him 
a  heart-to-heart  which  includes  a  few  new  notions 
about  girls.  He  has  n't  given  Janet  ten  consecutive 
minutes  of  his  time  since  he  came ;  and  it 's  not  fair, 
when  they  used  to  be  such  chums." 

However,  somebody  else  was  taking  Paul  in  hand, 
just  then,  taking  him  with  a  grip  that  defied  all  his 
efforts  to  relax  it. 

"  I  recollect  myself  now,"  Paul  had  said,  as  he 
and  Amy  turned  down  the  sunny  street.  "  At  least, 
my  notebook  recollects  me.  I  was  taking  down  the 
address  of  the  costume  man,  and  I  found  the  street 
where  the  kidlet  abides,  Sainte  Therese." 

"  Where  is  that  ? "  wag  Amy's  not  unnatural 
question. 

"  Down  hill  somewhere.  We  '11  take  the  first  car 
that  comes,  and  ask  the  conductor." 

"  I  know  better  than  that,"  Amy  asserted.  "  We 
need  a  Saint  Roch's  car;  then  we  can  transfer. 
Apparently  your  baby  abides  in  the  slums." 

Paul  surveyed  her  quizzically. 


62  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  Did  you  happen  to  notice  his  haberdashery  ?  " 
he  asked. 

And  Amy  admitted  the  pertinence  of  the  question. 

Down  hill  accordingly  they  went,  and  there,  by 
dint  of  transfers  and  of  many  questions,  they  made 
their  way  to  Rue  Sainte  Therese,  and  the  baby. 
They  found  the  street  one  of  a  snarl  of  little  by-ways 
which  threaded  a  wilderness  of  tiny  houses,  all 
gables  and  dormers  and  copper  roofs,  houses  whose 
front  doors  opened  out  into  the  street  above  a  single 
oilcloth-covered  step,  houses  whose  windows  were  as 
tightly  sealed  as  if  the  season  had  been  winter,  not 
July.  They  found  the  baby,  blue  overcoat  and  all, 
sitting  in  a  frowsy  wicker  carriage  and  uttering 
spluttery  remonstrances  at  the  street  in  general. 
Save  for  a  faceless  rag  doll  seated  by  his  side,  he 
appeared  to  be  alone.  Nevertheless,  he  promptly 
resented  the  friendly  greetings  of  his  erstwhile  nurse. 
Amy  added  her  efforts  at  conciliation  to  those  of 
Paul. 

"  Baby !  See !  See  ze  pitty,"  she  adjured  him, 
as  she  held  up  a  shining  toy.  "  See  ze  pitty  itty 
sing  we  's  brought  oo." 

Baby  fists  and  baby  voice  smote  the  air  simultane- 
ously. When  he  could  make  himself  heard,  — 

"  You  're  on  the  wrong  track,"  Paul  advised  her. 
"  Perhaps  he  thinks  you  're  too  gushing  with  him. 
Best  be  a  little  more  coy." 

There  was  an  interval  of  coyness,  while  they  stood 
at  a  respectful  distance  and  slowly  unpacked  a  scar- 


JANET  AT  ODDS  63 

let  tin  horse  and  a  purple  rubber  ball  from  the  bundle 
on  which  Jack  had  made  comment.  The  baby  eyed 
them  with  supercilious  gravity.  So  long  as  they 
maintained  a  proper  distance,  these  strange  grown- 
ups were  welcome  to  amuse  themselves  in  any  way 
they  chose.  However,  as  soon  as,  horse  and  ball  in 
hand,  they  approached  his  frowsy  chariot,  he  re- 
sumed his  hostile  demonstrations  towards  them.  Paul 
drew  off  in  manifest  alarm. 

"  By  Jove !  He  's  fairly  frothing  at  the  mouth," 
he  said  hurriedly.  "  He  '11  do  himself  some  sort 
of  harm,  have  a  shock  or  something.  What  an  orator 
he  '11  make  in  time,  though !  Just  see  him  pound 
the  air  at  all  the  proper  pauses.  But,  I  say,  this 
is  awful.  We  '11  have  the  fire  department  out,  if 
this  keeps  on.  There  must  be  some  way  to  switch 
off  the  motor." 

"  How  did  you  do  it,  coming  up  ?  "  Amy  asked 
unkindly. 

"  I  did  n't  —  much.  The  porter  told  me  to  jounce 
him  up  and  down,  and  it  did  a  little  good.  I  'd  do 
it  now,  only  I  don't  see  where  we  could  get  a  fair 
grip.  He 's  all  strapped  up  into  this  go-cart,  you 
see,  and  he 's  ready  to  fight  us  like  a  —  a  —  " 

"  Spunky  baby."  Amy  capped  his  phrase  for  him. 
"  What  if  we  ride  him  down  the  street  a  bit  ?  It 
may  quiet  him." 

"  Good  scheme !  "  Paul  approved.  "  It 's  fairly 
safe,  too,  for  he  's  lashed  too  tight  to  get  at  us,  if 
twe  stay  well  behind  him.  A  change  of  scene  is 


64  JANET  AT  ODDS 


always  good  for  the  nerves;  the  doctor  sent  my 
mother  to  Los  Angeles,  when  she  had  nervous 
prostration." 

Amy's  answer  was  unfeeling. 

"  At  this  rate,  we  '11  soon  be  candidates  for  Pata- 
gonia. Let 's  try  my  plan,  and  ride  him  down  the 
street." 

The  plan  worked  well.  The  baby's  interest  in  the 
journey  absorbed  him  to  such  a  point  that  he  neg- 
lected to  notice  the  nature  of  his  motive  power,  and 
he  subsided  into  placid  gurglings.  Above  his  un- 
conscious head,  Paul  and  Amy  exchanged  nods  of 
satisfaction,  as  they  slowly  trundled  him  along  the 
sunshiny  street.  At  the  corner,  Amy  raised  her 
brows;  Paul  nodded.  Smiling  in  full  enjoyment 
of  their  stratagem,  with  the  baby  booing  and  splutter- 
ing at  the  shiny  windows  of  the  houses  and  at  a 
scavenger  dog  who  sniffed  at  him,  they  rounded  the 
corner,  too  intent  upon  their  friendly  plan  to  note 
the  little  old  man  just  dashing  out  of  a  doorway, 
farther  up  the  street,  to  heed  the  shriek  of  mingled 
rage  and  fury  which  he  sent  echoing  after  them. 
Even  had  they  heeded,  the  shriek  would  have  con- 
veyed nothing  to  their  academic  ears.  It  was  in 
French;  but  not  the  French  of  Paris,  nor* yet  of 
the  American  college  type. 

A  moment  later,  Paul  glanced  backward  over  his 
shoulder.  Then  he  quickened  his  pace. 

"  I  say,"  he  remarked,  while  he  laid  h  is  hand 
beside  Amy's  on  the  bar  of  the  carriage ;  "  I  think 


JANET  AT  ODDS  65 

perhaps  we  'd  better  hurry  up.  There  seems  to  be 
some  sort  of  a  row  back  there,  and  we  don't  want 
to  get  mixed  up  in  it.  Suppose  we  dodge  around 
that  corner  over  there  and  lie  low  ?  " 

The  carriage  balked  at  the  crossing;  but  they 
made  their  corner  and  entered  a  street,  named,  to 
be  sure,  yet  possessing  all  the  attributes  of  a  blind 
alley.  Once  there,  Amy  slowed  her  step;  but  Paul 
cast  a  second  glance  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  by  thunder !  "  he  said.  "  We  appear  to 
have  steered  into  the  cyclone's  path.  Here,  let 's  dive 
into  this  back-yard  place,  and  let  it  whirl  past  us." 

The  carriage  balked  again,  then  entangled  itself 
in  the  entrance  to  the  back-yard  place.  Before  Paul 
could  assume  the  helm  and  change  the  course,  the 
cyclone  had  whirled  down  upon  them,  a  shouting, 
gesticulating  crowd.  In  the  front  rank  came  the 
little,  shabby  old  man,  and  a  fat  little  French  police- 
man, all  badge  and  moustache  and  shining  hat ;  and, 
to  Paul's  intense  surprise,  instead  of  dashing  on 
past  them,  the  entire  mob  swept  upon  them,  as  if 
the  objective  point  of  the  whole  mad  rout  had  been 
himself  and  Amy,  and  the  blue-overcoated  baby  in 
his  frowsy  chariot. 

For  a  moment,  there  was  silence,  a  silence  full  of 
expectation,  since  neither  the  mob  nor  its  object  ap- 
peared to  know  just  what  would  happen  next.  The 
silence  ended,  when  the  policeman  shut  his  law- 
gloved  hand  on  Paul's  right  arm,  ended  in  a  babel 
of  strident  French  that  defied  Paul's  ears. 

5 


66  JANET  AT  ODDS 

For  one  short  instant,  Paul's  gray  eyes  flashed, 
and  he  lifted  his  arm  with  the  full  intention  of  cuff- 
ing the  little  Frenchman  soundly.  Then  he  remem- 
bered the  might  of  the  law,  dropped  his  arm  and 
lifted  his  voice  persuasively. 

"  Not  guilty !  "  he  said  cheerily.  "  What  in  thun- 
der is  the  matter  ?  You  '11  get  a  sun-stroke,  yon-all, 
if  you  keep  on  exciting  yourselves  like  this.  What 
do  you  want,  anyhow  ?  " 

The  babel  kept  on,  more  noisy,  more  hostile  with 
every  moment.  In  the  midst  of  it,  the  little  man 
ended  his  utterances  with  a  culminating  yelp  of 
anger,  sprang  forward,  tore  the  carriage  out  of  Amy's 
grasp  and  made  off  with  it  up  the  street,  while  the 
clamour  changed  from  menaces  to  plaudits.  Under 
cover  of  the  shrieking,  Paul  turned  to  Amy,  rage 
and  amusement  struggling  for  mastery  in  his  honest 
eyes. 

"  Well,  I  am  blessed,"  he  said  slowly;  "  if  I  don't 
believe  they  think  we  were  trying  to  kidnap  their 
blasted  baby !  "  . 

"What?  No!  Yes!  Do  explain  it  to  them," 
Amy  begged. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  can,"  Paul  confessed. 

"  Don't  you  speak  French  ?  " 

"  Perfectly ;  but  not  the  sort  they  speak  up  here. 
I  shall  have  to  leave  you  to  do  the  talking." 

Amy  shook  her  head. 

"  I  only  know  two  words,  oui  and  one  other,  and 
I  forget  now  just  what  the  other  was,"  she  answered 


JANET  AT  ODDS  67 

hilariously,  for  the  whole  situation  seemed  to  her 
intensely  comic. 

Paul,  however,  foresaw  a  possible  change  to 
tragedy,  or,  failing  that,  to  melodrama.  Swiftly  he 
sought  the  dusty  corners  of  his  mind  in  the  hope 
of  discovering  a  few  stray  wisps  of  his  sub-freshman 
French.  Discovered,  however,  they  took  some  time 
and  care,  before  they  could  be  fitted  to  each  other 
and  to  the  present  crisis. 

"  You  wait,"  he  said  at  last.  "  You  rest  a  mo- 
ment there,  and  I  speak  the  whole  story." 

The  officer  pricked  up  his  ears.  He  was  town- 
born,  not  habitant ;  and  Paul's  accent  was  better 
than  his  vocabulary.  He  pricked  up  his  ears; 
then  he  let  off  a  volley  of  accusing  French  in 
reply. 

Paul  let  the  volley  die  away  to  silence.  He  was 
too  wary  to  waste  his  energy  on  a  wholly  impossible 
attempt  to  understand.  Instead,  he  utilized  the  time 
to  frame  his  next  sentence.  He  framed  it  with  a 
glibness  that  astounded  himself,  astounded  Amy, 
astounded  even  the  chubby  officer  who,  taking  it  for 
granted  that  Paul's  fluency  was  more  than  skin  deep, 
launched  forth  upon  another  tide  of  French  which 
plainly  ended  in  a  question. 

For  reasons  wholly  obvious,  Paul  forebore  to  an- 
swer the  question.  Amy  jogged  his  attention  a  little 
mercilessly,  for  even  upon  her  gayety  it  was  dawning 
that,  in  time,  the  situation  might  lose  some  of  its 
more  comic  phases. 


68  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  him  ? "  she  inquired,  in 
manifest  rebuke. 

"Tell  him  what?" 

"  Why  —  I  don't  know,"  Amy  answered  vaguely. 
"  Whatever  it  is  he  wants  to  know." 

This  time,  Paul's  chuckle  was  irrepressible. 

"  I  will,"  he  responded  glibly.  "  I  'm  only  wait- 
ing for  you  to  tell  me  what  it  is.  I  've  done  my 
fair  share  in  the  talking ;  now  it 's  up  to  you  to 
understand." 

Amy  turned  to  face  the  crowd,  now  looking  on  in 
expectant  curiosity. 

"  Is  n't  there  somebody  here  who  speaks  a  little 
English  ?  "  she  demanded. 

Only  a  murmur  answered  her,  a  murmur  of  nega- 
tion, punctuated  by  shrugs  and  disdainful  smiles. 
Paul,  at  her  side,  read  the  faces  around  them  like 
an  open  book. 

"  No  go,"  he  said.  "  We  're  marooned  in  a  sea 
of  French.  All  we  can  do  is  to  drift  till  we  sight 
an  English  craft." 

Amy  laughed  as  unconcernedly  as  if  she  had  been 
sitting  on  the  Leslie  steps. 

"  I  really  believe  I  shall  come  to  admire  your 
metaphors  as  much  as  I  do  your  slang,"  she 
said. 

"  Think  it  over  and  decide,"  Paul  advised  her 
coolly.  "  Meanwhile,  from  the  way  this  minion  of 
the  law  is  plucking  at  my  elbow,  I  infer  he  wants 
to  have  me  go  somewhere  with  him.  If  you  've 


JANET  AT  ODDS  69 

nothing  better  to  do,  you  might  as  well  come  along 
and  see  the  situation  through." 

There  was  silence  for  a  moment.  Then  Amy's 
laugh,  hearty  and  infectious,  bubbled  up  and  over. 

"  Paul  Addison,"  she  said,  when  she  could  speak ; 
"  I  verily  believe  we  've  gone  and  got  ourselves 
arrested." 


CHAPTEK    SIX 

JANET  and  Jack  came  back  from  their  walk,  Rob 
and  Day  from  their  drive  and  Amy  Browne  from 
her  shopping.  Luncheon  was  cooked  and  served  and 
eaten,  and  still  there  was  no  sign  of  Paul  and  Amy 
Pope. 

"  Where  can  those  children  be  ? "  Janet  wondered 
for  the  third  time,  as  they  left  the  table. 

And,  for  the  third  time,  Mrs.  Blanchard  replied 
tranquilly,  — 

"  Don't  worry,  Janet.  Boys  always  come  home, 
when  they  begin  to  get  hungry." 

Day  nodded  across  at  Jack,  who  was  standing  at 
attention  behind  his  mother's  chair. 

"  Your  present  habits  developed  early,  Jackie 
boy  ? "  she  asked  audaciously,  and  Janet's  question 
was  swamped  in  a  rising  tide  of  chaff. 

The  question  repeated  itself  over  the  tea  and 
Sally  Lunn,  however,  repeated  itself  and  was  ac- 
corded a  more  serious  discussion.  It  repeated  itself 
again  at  dinner,  this  time  to  be  met  with  grave  and 
anxious  faces.  By  now,  there  seemed  no  reasonable 
cause  that  Paul  and  Amy  should  prolong  their  ab- 
sence any  further.  True,  both  of  them  were  in- 
veterate jokers;  yet  neither  one  of  them  ever  had 
been  known  to  carry  a  joke  beyond  the  limits  of 


JANET  AT  ODDS  71 

courtesy  and  good  taste.  The  girls  were '  still  in- 
clined to  treat  the  matter  as  a  foolish  freak;  but 
Jack  looked  grave,  Rob  openly  alarmed. 

It  was  Mrs.  Blanchard  who  finally  broke  in  upon 
the  aimless  discussion. 

"  Jack  ?  "     She  spoke  decidedly. 

"Mother?" 

"  As  soon  as  you  have  finished  your  dinner,  dear, 
I  think  you  'd  better  go  out  and  make  a  few 
inquiries." 

Sidney  looked  up,  a  world  of  trouble  in  her  eyes. 

"  You  think  it  is  as  bad  as  that  ? "  she  asked, 
while  her  thoughts  flew  off  to  Boston  and  her  aunt. 

Mrs.  Blanchard  touched  the  girl's  hand  reassur- 
ingly- 

"  I  only  think  it  may  be,  and  that 's  the  reason 
I  want  Jack  to  find  out  that  it  is  n't." 

Already  Jack  had  risen  to  his  feet. 

"  I  've  had  all  the  dinner  I  care  for.  I  think 
I  '11  go  at  once.  Will  you  come,  too,  Rob  ? " 

Rob  rose  irresolutely,  glancing  from  Mrs.  Blanch- 
ard to  Day,  and  then  to  Sidney. 

"  Unless  they  need  me  here." 

"  Go  on,"  Day  urged  him.  "  Two  heads  are 
always  better  than  one,  and  we  are  all  right.  There  's 
nothing  we  can  do  but  worry,  and  we  really  don't 
need  masculine  assistance  in  doing  that." 

"  Why  don't  you  telephone  from  here  ?  "  Janet 
called  after  them. 

But  Jack  shut  the  outer  door  too  soon  to  allow 


72  JANET  AT  ODDS 

himself  time  to  answer.  He  saw  no  reason  to  inform 
Janet  that  the  direction  taken  by  his  telephonings 
might  not  be  reassuring. 

"  You  think  something  is  wrong  ? "  Rob  asked 
briefly,  as  they  swung  out  into  the  darkening  street, 
where  the  gray  shadows  seemed  loath  to  vanish  be- 
fore the  coming  of  the  electric  lights. 

Jack  nodded,  as  he  fitted  his  stronger  stride  to 
the  pace  of  his  companion. 

"  I  've  been  thinking  so  for  some  time,"  he  an- 
swered quite  as  briefly. 

"  You  did  n't  say  so." 

"  What  was  the  use  of  stirring  up  a  panic  ?     As 
long   as   daylight  lasted,   I   thought  they   might  be 
off  on  an  impromptu  picnic." 
-"And  now?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  'm  going  straight  to  headquarters  —  literally.'* 

"  You  mean  ?  " 

"  I  'm  going  to  put  the  police  on  the  track." 

"  Oh,  I  say,  I  would  n't  do  that,  yet-awhile,"  Rob 
remonstrated,  with  extreme  disfavour. 

"Why  not?" 

"  It  sounds  so  —  so  criminal.  Besides,  it  may  get 
into  the  papers." 

"  Not  here.  Not  if  we  object.  Canadian  papers 
can  be  muzzled,  if  one  knows  how  to  go  to 
work." 

In  spite  of  his  anxiety,  Rob  laughed,  while  he 


JANET  AT  ODDS  73 


studied  with  admiring  eyes  the  resolute  profile  of 
his  friend.  Then  he  laid  his  hand  on  that  friend's 
arm. 

"  Jack,"  he  said ;  "  I  believe  you  're  as  much  a 
Canadian  as  ever." 

The  resolution  softened,  lighted  into  kindly  liking. 
Then,  half  unconsciously,  Jack  shortened  step. 

"  I  'm  going  too  fast  for  you,  old  man,"  he  said. 
"  Let 's  slow  down,  a  bit.  Canadian  ?  Yes.  Why 
not?" 

There  came  a  pause,  short,  wellnigh  imperceptible. 
Then  Rob  answered,  with  an  accent  rarely  used  from 
man  to  man,  — 

"  Merely  because  we  'd  rather  have  you  altogether 
one  of  us." 

At  police  headquarters,  events  transpired,  and 
swiftly.  In  fact,  according  to  Jack's  present  mood, 
it  would  have  been  a  bold  man  who  suggested  a 
delay;  and  even  the  unrolling  of  red  tape  was  hur- 
ried by  his  masterful  dictation.  They  entered  the 
doorway  of  the  great  stone  building  in  a  mood  as 
bleak  and  gray  as  the  outer  walls.  Half  an  hour 
later,  they  were  back  in  the  street,  smiling  and  talk- 
ing buoyantly,  while  they  awaited  the  leisurely  com- 
ing of  a  Saint  Roch's  car. 

"  Best  telephone  to  the  house,"  Rob  advised,  as 
they  came  down  the  stone  steps  of  the  city  hall. 

Jack  nodded. 

"  Only  don't  be  too  hopeful,"  he  advised.  "  We 
don't  want  to  stir  them  up  for  nothing.  Tell  them 


74  JANET  AT  ODDS 

we  think  we  have  a  clue,  and  hope  we  're  on  the 
right  track." 

"  You  don't  think  there  's  chance  for  any  doubt  ?  " 

"  I  should  n't ;  only  it  sounds  so  totally  impos- 
sible." 

"  It 's  the  impossible  that  happens,"  Rob  made 
assent.  "  After  the  which  original  utterance,  I  '11 
go  inside  this  shothecary  pop,  and  telephone  to 
Day." 

In  all  truth,  it  did  seem  impossible,  this  clue 
which  both  boys  believed  to  be  the  right  one.  There 
had  been  a  few  uncertain  moments  in  the  office  of 
police  headquarters,  moments  of  apparently  futile 
discussion  which  had  taxed  to  the  uttermost  Jack's 
French  and  Rob's  patience.  Then  the  fluttering  of 
official  leaves  had  been  followed  by  much  telephon- 
ing, of  which  Rob  could  not  make  out  a  single  word. 
Bit  by  bit,  however,  he  had  gathered  its  import  from 
the  changes  in  Jack's  face,  as  he  stood  listening  to 
the  nearer  end  of  the  conversation.  Then,  when  the 
telephoning  had  ceased,  Jack  turned  to  Rob  in  hasty 
explanation  of  its  substance. 

"  He  says  they  've  got  a  pair  of  people  down  in 
the  Saint  Sauveur  station  that  may  be  Paul  and 
Amy.  I  told  him  it  was  n't  possible ;  but  I  have 
a  sneaking  fear  it  may  be." 

"  What  in  thunder  —  In  the  station  —  What 
are  they  doing  there  ? "  Rob  gasped,  in  blank  amaze- 
ment, blanker  consternation.  "  What  can  have  hap- 
pened to  them,  Jack  ?  " 


JANET  AT  ODDS  75 

"  He  says  they  were  picked  up  and  run  in,  this 
morning,  charged  with  kidnapping  a  baby." 

"  A  ba  -  by !  Oh,  for  the  love  of  Moses !  "  And, 
to  the  surprise  of  the  official  at  the  desk,  Rob  went 
off  into  peal  after  peal  of  laughter.  "  It 's  that 
Paul,"  he  gasped,  when  he  could  find  his  voice. 
"  He  's  got  'em  again,  Jack ;  this  is  the  second  time. 
It  must  be  a  form  of  brain  disease,  like  kleptomania, 
only  this  specializes  on  babies." 

It  was  no  especial  wonder  that  Jack  looked  mys- 
tified. In  the  short  time  since  his  arrival,  no  one 
had  thought  to  acquaint  him  with  the  circumstances 
under  which  they  all  had  first  seen  Paul. 

"  It  sounds  like  them,  really,  Rob,"  he  urged 
swiftly,  as  if  to  forestall  the  continued  chaffing  of 
his  friend  whom  he  judged  to  be  indignant  at  the 
suspicion  fallen  on  his  comrades.  "  They  both  are 
tall,  both  evidently  Americans.  The  girl  has  on  a 
wide  white  hat  with  what  he  calls  a  wreath  of 
feathers ;  the  boy  is  wearing  gray  clothes  and  a  dark 
green  tie,  and  —  " 

"  Sure !  They  're  it,  all  right,"  Rob  assented  tran- 
quilly. "  I  don't  need  any  other  proof,  Jack ;  their 
occupation  is  quite  enough." 

"  And  neither  one  speaks  any  French,"  Jack 
ended,  as  if  he  had  not  heard  the  interruption. 

"  Likely  not.  Few  of  us  do,  judged  by  these  local 
standards.  Well,  if  you  're  ready,  let 's  proceed  to 
bail  them  out."  And,  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and 
his  face  ail  one  comprehensive  smile,  Rob  sauntered 


76  JANET  AT  ODDS 

out  of  the  police  headquarters,  followed  by  Jack  who 
obviously  was  inclined  to  take  the  matter  far  more 
seriously. 

They  found  the  culprits  sitting  side  by  side  upon 
a  bench  in  the  open  office  of  the  station,  totally  en- 
grossed in  playing  cat's  cradle  with  the  string  that 
had  tied  up  their  ill-fated  toys.  Beside  them  on  the 
floor,  the  toys  were  stacked  in  a  neat  pile,  while  the 
paper  lay  across  them,  covered  from  end  to  end  with 
the  hieroglyphs  of  tit-tat-too.  Comfortable,  impeni- 
tent, hilarious,  they  glanced  up  at  the  sound  of  ap- 
proaching steps. 

"  My  sainted  conscience !  It 's  the  pampered  idol ! 
'And  we  were  going  to  step  on  his  toes,"  Paul  mut- 
tered swiftly.  "  I  rather  think,  though,  it 's  his  turn 
to  score."  Then,  as  the  glass  door  swung  open,  and 
their  two  rescuers  came  within  hail,  he  added  jaunt- 
ily, "  So  glad  to  see  you !  You  've  come  just  in  the 
nick  of  time,  for  we  've  used  up  all  the  means  of 
entertainment  at  our  disposal,  and  even  this  string 
is  getting  worn  a  little  thin."  And,  rising,  he  held 
out  his  hand  to  assist  his  companion  to  her  feet. 

"  But  why  the  mischief  did  n't  you  telephone  us  ?  " 
Rob  demanded,  while  Jack  was  making  prolix  ex- 
planation at  the  desk. 

Paul  laughed  carelessly. 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  was  going  to  lose  such  a  good 
chance  to  study  police  court  conditions  ? "  he  de- 
manded in  return.  "  I  've  put  in  the  day,  getting 
material  for  next  term's  economics.  Besides,"  he 


JANET  AT  ODDS  77 

added  nonchalantly ;  "  Amy  did  n't  succeed  in  get- 
ting together  French  enough  to  explain  that  some 
chap  had  made  off  with  my  money  and  I  could  n't 
raise  enough  even  to  operate  their  confounded  old 
slot  machine.  Smith  is  n't  very  strong  in  languages," 
he  ended  pointedly,  with  the  white  of  one  eye  turned 
upon  his  companion  in  disgrace. 

"  Paul,"  Sidney  said,  as  they  left  the  table,  the 
next  morning ;  "  you  are  going  to  take  a  walk  with 
me." 

"When?" 

"  Now." 

"  What  for  ?  " 

"  Because  I  am  your  cousin." 

Paul  whistled. 

"  You  'd  better  take  Amy.  She  was  the  one  that 
really  stole  the  infant." 

"  I  did  not,"  Amy  contradicted  promptly. 

"  Who  suggested  making  off  with  him  ? "  Paul 
asked  her  pointedly. 

"  I  did ;  but  that  was  only  to  quiet  him  down, 
after  you  had  made  him  cry." 

"  Well,  I  like  that,"  Paul  was  beginning,  when 
Sidney  interposed. 

"  I  really  don't  see  how  this  concerns  the  case  in 
hand,  Paul.  I  invited  you  to  go  to  walk,  not  to  —  " 

Paul  interposed  in  his  own  turn,  making,  the  while 
a  rueful  face  at  Amy. 

"  That 's  the  very  thing.  Do  you  suppose  a  fellow 
has  lived  as  long  as  I  have,  and  not  found  out  it 


78  JANET  AT  ODDS 

always  means  a  lecture  when  a  relation  asks  to  see 
him  by  himself?  I  thought  you  were  above  taking 
such  a  mean  advantage,  Tids;  but  I  suppose  you 
have  caught  it  from  Wade.  It  used  to  be  a  favourite 
trick  of  his." 

"  Tids  ?  "  Amy  challenged. 

Paul  smiled  ingratiatingly  in  the  direction  of  his 
cousin. 

"  It 's  what  I  used  to  call  her,  years  and  years 
ago,"  he  explained,  in  a  stage  whisper.  "  Now  and 
then  I  find  these  little  old  pet  names  work  wonders 
in  staving  off  a  moral  crisis." 

But  Sidney,  hearing,  laughed  and  shook  her  head. 
Nevertheless,  she  bided  her  time  until  the  Leslie 
house  and  Louis  Street  were  far  behind,  and  she  and 
Paul  were  strolling  lazily  along  the  footpath  leading 
up  the  glacis  and  on  around  the  wall.  It  was  a 
hazy  day,  gray  and  sunless,  and  the  breeze  swept 
across  the  heights  above  the  river,  bringing  in  its 
freshness  the  tang  of  the  northern  forests  hidden 
away  beyond  the  encircling  ring  of  hills.  At  their 
feet,  the  city  rolled  away  from  the  higher  buildings 
in  the  foreground  to  the  distant  huddle  of  roofs 
beside  the  Saint  Charles  valley;  and,  beyond  the 
last  roofs  of  the  city,  beyond  the  little,  winding  river, 
the  wide  blue  valley  stretched  away,  farm-dotted, 
village-spotted,  until,  in  its  turn,  it  rolled  upward 
once  more  to  join  the  lower  slopes  of  the .  purple 
Laurentides.  It  was  the  first  time  Paul  had  found 
the  footpath,  and  he  wandered  on  along  it  in  a  con- 


JANET  AT  ODDS  79 

tented  silence,  hands  in  the  side  pockets  of  his  coat, 
cap  on  the  back  of  his  head  and  his  lips  ready  for 
the  whistling  which,  for  the  present,  did  not  come. 
Then  suddenly  he  turned  and  glanced  at  his  cousin 
who  was  strolling  by  his  side,  her  eyes  on  the  turf 
before  her,  a  little  frown  between  her  brows. 

"  Let  her  go,"  he  bade  her  abruptly. 

"  Her  ?     Who  ?  "     Sidney  looked  up  blankly. 

"  Oh,  any  old.  I  can  see  I  'm  in  for  it,  so  we 
may  as  well  have  it  over,"  he  made  unexpected 
answer. 

He  was  fully  prepared  for  her  laugh;  not,  how- 
ever, for  her  words  that  followed. 

"  Paul,  you  are  a  fickle  soul." 

"  Mayhaps.  But  why  ?  Not  with  you,  sure," 
he  defended  himself  swiftly;  and  Sidney,  had  she 
been  holding  her  gaze  fixed  on  him,  and  not  upon  the 
grass  before  her,  would  have  been  astonished  at  the 
boyish  liking  in  his  honest  eyes. 

"  You  know  I  did  n't  mean  that,  Paul,"  she  re- 
sponded quickly.  "  We  began  just  where  we  left  off." 

Again  his  glance  sought  hers. 

"  That  is,  if  we  ever  did  leave  off,  Tids.  I  am 
no  letter-writer,  and  so  are  n't  you ;  but  I  don't  im- 
agine that  has  made  much  difference  between  us." 

"  Not  a  bit.  Not  one  bit.  But  —  whom  did  you 
come  here  to  play  with,  Paul  ? " 

"  You,"  he  answered  promptly. 

"  Yes,  of  course."  There  was  a  little  hesitation 
in  her  tone,  for  which  Sidney  rebuked  herself  sharply 


80  JANET  AT  ODDS 

and  at  once.  In  her  loyalty  to  the  Argyles  and  Jack, 
perhaps  she  had  given  too  little  thought  to  the  pos- 
sible devotion  of  this  young  cousin.  Little  by  little, 
in  the  past  three  or  four  years,  she  had  absorbed  the 
opinion  of  Wade  Winthrop  that  Paul  was  a  young- 
ster, a  mere  child  of  an  epoch  totally  different  from 
her  own.  After  all,  he  was  only  two  years  younger 
than  herself.  Janet  Leslie  was  the  same  age,  and 
Sidney  never  professed  to  regard  her  as  too  young 
for  comradeship.  However,  she  pulled  herself  out 
of  her  self-reproachful  reverie,  and  returned  to  her 
main  theme.  "  Yes,  of  course.  But  who  else  ?  " 

Paul  chuckled. 

"  It  looked,  yesterday,  as  if  Amy  Pope  were  to 
be  about  to  be  the  favoured  individual,"  he  answered. 

Sidney  permitted  herself  to  be  lured  into  a  digres- 
sion. 

"  You  both  of  you  ought  to  have  been  put  to  bed 
without  your  suppers,"  she  said  severely. 

Paul  chuckled  again. 

"  We  came  mighty  near  it.  I  fancy  we  would 
have  been,  if  it  had  n't  been  for  Jack.  Confound  the 
fellow !  Where  did  he  pick  up  the  lingo,  anyhow  ?  " 

"He  used  to  —  " 

"  Yes,  I  know  the  fable.  It  sounds  like  one  of 
the  moral  tales  I  used  to  read,  when  I  was  a  young- 
ster, on  Sunday  afternoons.  Even  then,  I  used  to 
prefer  Indians.  But  it  does  n't  necessarily  imply 
that  he  was  also  a  linguist,"  he  added,  harking  back 
to  his  main  theme. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  81 

"  Everybody  who  comes  here  has  to  speak  French." 

"  Not  on  your  life,"  Paul  asserted.  "  Ask  Amy 
Pope.  Besides,  this  is  n't  French ;  it 's  dago-ese. 
However,  he  had  it  pat;  he  was  no  time  at  all  in 
having  it  out  with  the  Bobby  at  the  desk,  and  in 
having  us  out  of  our  shackles  at  the  same  time.  But, 
Sidney  Stayre,  I  warn  you  —  " 

"  Well  ?  "  Sidney  broke  his  ominous  pause. 

"  I  warn  you  that,  if  you  ever  let  on  to  old  Wade 
that  his  infant  brother  got  himself  arrested  on  sus- 
picion of  helping  to  kidnap  a  Canuck  baby  —  " 

Sidney  interrupted;  but  her  assurance  was  far 
from  reassuring. 

"  I  sha'n't  have  to.  Irene  has  probably  told  him 
already." 

Paul  stared  at  her  in  speechless  disgust.    Then,  — - 

"  Irene !  "  he  exploded. 

"  Yes.  She  writes  to  him,  every  morning.  Of 
course,  she  '11  tell  him." 

"  Oh !  "  There  were  volumes  in  the  tone.  Then 
Paul  departed  along  another  track.  "  Sidney,"  he 
said ;  "  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  Janet 
Leslie." 

Sidney  controlled  her  voice  as  best  she  could,  lest 
it  betray  her  pleasure  at  his  choice  of  subject. 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  queried,  as  she  idlf 
picked  a  daisy  from  the  turf  at  her  feet. 

"  We  used  to  be  such  chums  at  Grande  Riviere. 
Now  I  can't  make  her  out  at  all." 

"  Have  you  tried  ?  " 

6 


82  JANET  AT  ODDS 

The  question  was  a  bit  more  curt  than  Sidney  had 
intended,  and  Paul  flushed  hotly.  When  he  spoke, 
his  voice  was  full  of  boyish  trouble. 

"  Then  you  've  noticed,  too  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Noticed  what  ? "  she  said  evasively,  for  she  had 
been  unprepared  for  the  trouble  in  Paul's  voice  and 
in  his  friendly  eyes,  and  she  wanted  to  gain  time 
to  grasp  the  fact  that  Paul's  avoidance  of  Janet,  all 
those  last  two  days,  so  far  from  being  accidental,  had 
been  of  his  own  choice. 

"  You  never  used  to  dodge  like  that,  Tids,"  he 
rebuked  her.  "  Noticed  that  we  —  we  don't  get  on 
together." 

Sidney  ceased  to  dodge,  and  came  directly  to  the 
point. 

"  Have  you  and  Janet  had  a  fuss  ?  "  she  queried. 

He  shook  his  head,  then  gave  his  cap  a  vicious 
tweak. 

"  Hang  it,  no !  It  takes  two  to  make  a  fuss,  and 
I  have  n't  been  able  to  get  in  fussing  distance  of 
Janet,  since  I  came." 

"  Janet  is  always  quiet,"  Sidney  said,  in  attempted 
explanation. 

"  She  can  talk  fast  enough  with  Blanchard." 

"  He  is  a  Canadian,  too." 

"Hm!     Or  with  Argyle." 

"Kob  spent  a  winter  in  their  house,  you  know," 
Sidney  explained  again. 

"  That 's  not  my  fault,"  Paul  mutinied.  "  So  did 
I  spend  a  summer  with  her,  if  it  comes  to  that. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  83 

That 's  no  reason,  though,  that  she  should  sort  us  out, 
sheep  and  goats,  and  make  me  —  " 

"  Well  ? "  Sidney  urged  him,  when  the  pause  had 
lengthened. 

"  The  goat,"  Paul  ended,  and  there  was  a  falling 
cadence  to  the  word  which  was  comically  incongruous 
with  its  literal  meaning.  Then  he  looked  up  sharply. 
"  Tids,  Janet  Leslie  does  n't  like  me  one  little  bit." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  "  Sidney  parried, 
wondering,  the  while,  just  how  far  it  was  fair  to 
betray  Janet's  real  attitude  towards  the  boy  beside 
her. 

"  She  looks  at  me  edgewise,  and  then  removes 
herself,  with  her  chin  stuck  up  in  the  air,"  Paul 
responded,  with  an  accuracy  of  description  which 
spoke  well  for  his  powers  of  observation. 

Unhappily,  however,  his  powers  were  only  skin 
deep,  as  Sidney  undertook  to  convince  him. 

"  It 's  only  Janet's  way,"  she  said. 

"  Then  Janet's  way  is  a  mighty  disagreeable  one, 
according  to  my  notion,"  he  made  prompt  answer. 
"  There  's  no  especial  reason,  as  far  as  I  can  see  and 
after  our  old  larks  together,  that  Janet  should  do 
the  haughty  lady  in  my  presence.  She  used  to  be 
up  to  anything,  a  good  deal  like  Miss  Pope;  now 
she  is  as  prim  as  a  Dutch  doll.  Look  here,  Sidney," 
again  the  honest  gray  eyes  met  hers ;  "  Wade  and  I 
both  thought  it  would  be  a  good  scheme  for  me  to 
come  up  here,  this  summer.  I  was  sure  I  was  going 
to  have  a  corking  good  time ;  but,  now  I  'm  here, 


84  JANET  AT  ODDS 


I  '11  be  hanged  if  I  don't  wonder  whether  I  'm  not 
in  the  way." 

"  Paul !    What  nonsense !  " 

"  It  is  n't  nonsense,"  he  answered  firmly ;  "  it 's 
just  Janet.  The  rest  of  you  are  all  right  Even  the 
Dame,"  he  chuckled  at  the  memory ;  "  called  me 
Laddie,  this  very  morning.  But,  after  all,  it 's 
Janet's  house ;  in  a  sense,  I  'm  Janet's  guest  and, 
what 's  more,  I  'm  not  a  welcome  one." 

His  words  fell  into  a  silence  that  lasted  long,  so 
long  that  Sidney,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  hillocks 
of  the  ancient  battle-ground,  appeared  to  have  for- 
gotten his  last  words.  When  she  spoke,  however,  her 
own  words  disproved  the  doubts  of  her  memory. 

"  Paul,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  it 's  horrid  to  be  gos- 
siping with  a  boy  about  another  girl.  Still,  you  are 
my  cousin,  not  just  an  ordinary  boy  at  large,  and  I 
suppose  that  does  make  a  difference." 

"  Bather !  "  Paul  interpolated  swiftly. 

"  Yes,  it  does.  I  can  say  things  to  you  I  would  n't 
say  to  anybody  else  but  Wade,  —  and  Rob,  perhaps. 
Janet  is  n't  like  the  rest  of  us.  She  used  to  be  more 
so ;  but  she 's  had  bad  times  since  then,  and  they 
have  changed  her,  made  her  less  ready  to  take  her 
friends  on  trust  Besides,  she  is  a  Canadian;  and, 
after  all  said  and  done,  there  is  a  difference.  We 
.don't  think  it 's  indecent  to  be  a  little  demonstrative 
now  and  then.  Janet  does.  She  is  reserved  and 
shy.  At  Smith,  all  the  first  year,  she  had  a  horrid 
time  because  she  persisted  in  waiting  for  other  people 


JANET  AT  ODDS  85 

to  come  three  quarters  of  the  way,  and  then  she 
sulked  because  they  did  n't  do  it.  She  's  got  over  the 
sulking  part;  but  she  still  waits,  and  that  is  what 
she  is  doing  now  with  you.  You  can  believe  me  or 
not,  just  as  you  choose;  but  I  really  do  know  Janet 
Leslie  through  and  through.  I  know  she  lias  been 
making  a  lot  of  plans  for  your  coming,  counting  a 
lot  on  it;  but  she  would  have  died,  rather  than  say 
so.  Now  you  're  here,  she  is  disappointed  that  you 
don't  get  on  together,  more  disappointed  a  good  deal 
than  you  are.  By  good  rights,  you  ought  to  be  chums. 
It  is  her  fault  that  you  are  n't ;  but  it 's  you  that 
will  have  it  all  to  do." 

"And  if  I  don't?" 

"  Then  you  '11  stay  just  where  you  are,  without 
budging  one  single  inch,"  Sidney  answered  quickly. 

"  Hang  it  all !  "  Paul  burst  out.  "  What  is  it  that 
you  think  I  am  going  to  do  ? " 

"  Take  Janet  by  the  horns,"  Sidney  answered,  in 
a  sudden  outburst  of  metaphor. 

"  And  get  myself  gored  ?     Thanks." 

Sidney  shook  her  head  at  the  targets  of  the  rifle 
ranges. 

"  You  won't,"  she  predicted  confidently. 


CHAPTER   SEVEN 

"  TTI  THERE  is  —  "  the  speaker  clung  to  the  word, 

V  T  while  she  hunted  through  the  chaos  in  her 
lap ;  "  the  yellow  silk  ?  " 

"It's  here.    Catch." 

"  Thanks."  Amy  shut  her  hand  on  the  flying 
spool.  "  And  has  anybody  some  extra  satin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  two  yards.  I  had  a  lavish  fit,  when  I  or- 
dered it,"  the  other  Amy  assured  her.  "  To  be  sure, 
mine  is  pink.  Will  that  make  any  difference  ? " 

"  None  to  speak  of.  Still,  I  think  I  won't  use  it, 
all  things  considered." 

"  How  about  mine  ?  "  Sidney  asked,  from  between 
the  pins  that  filled  her  mouth,  for  she  was  kneeling 
on  the  floor  in  front  of  Day,  shortening  a  trailing 
satin  skirt  to  its  proper  length. 

"  Yours  is  sulphur ;  mine  is  lemon.  Amy  Browne, 
where  did  you  get  that  lovely,  lovely  lace  front  ? " 

"  Out  of  a  remnant  and  six  yards  of  bargain- 
counter  ribbon.  I  made  it,  last  night.  While  you 
and  Paul  were  frivoling  on  the  terrace,  I  sat  at 
home  and  plied  my  needle,"  Amy  Browne  responded 
virtuously. 

"  While  Jack  read  Kipling  with  annotations  to  an 
admiring  audience  of  one,"  Day  interpolated,  over 


JANET  AT  ODDS  87 

her  shoulder.  "  Sidney,  I  am  at  the  inside  end  of 
that  last  pin.  Do  you  mind  moving  it  a  little  ? " 

Amy  Pope  pursued  her  investigations. 

"  How  many  —  many  crinolines  is  anybody  going 
to  have  in  its  petticoat  ? " 

"  Two,"  Amy  Browne  responded. 

"  Three,"  Sidney  insisted,  with  decision.  "  It 
will  hang  better  so." 

"  Thank  goodness,  I  'm  to  be  on  horseback !  "  Day 
put  in.  "  I  never  could  manage  one  of  those  hogs- 
heads of  skirts." 

"  Day !  How  inelegant !  Do  call  it  a  pigVpate," 
Rob's  voice  remonstrated  from  the  hall.  "  I  say, 
may  I  come  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  you  won't  sit  on  things,"  Day  told  him. 

"  Is  a  chair  a  thing  ?  Because,  if  't  is,  I  think  I  'd 
rather  stay  outside."  Nevertheless,  he  came  in  and 
took  possession  of  a  chair. 

With  a  little  shriek,  Amy  Browne  snatched  a 
handful  of  pink  satin  breadths  from  across  the  chair- 
back,  just  as  Rob  settled  his  eight  score  pounds 
against  it. 

"  Rob,  do  get  up.  You  're  sitting  on  something 
else,"  Sidney  besought  him  hastily. 

Without  troubling  himself  to  rise,  Rob  investi- 
gated the  brown  paper  parcel  which  served  as  cushion. 

"  It 's  only  a  bundle  of  shiny  stuff  and  a  pumpkin- 
coloured  sleeve,"  he  replied  serenely.  "  I  'm  not 
hurting  them,  and  a  fellow  must  sit  somewhere." 

"  Not  on  my  sleeve,  though."     Sidney  fell  upon 


JANET  AT  ODDS 


it  and  smoothed  it  out  with  anxious  care.  "  Do  see 
what 's  in  the  bundle,  Rob." 

"  Paul's  purple  pajamas,"  Rob  answered  allitera- 
tively,  as  he  held  them  up.  "  Won't  he  be,  to  use 
his  own  vernacular,  a  corking  sight,  when  he  gets 
these  on  ? " 

"  Paul  is  very  slangy,"  Janet  observed  thought- 
fully, from  the  corner  where  she  sat  working  in  a 
sea  of  pale  rose  silk. 

"  It  goes  with  the  epoch,  Janet,"  Rob  told 
her. 

"  Also  with  the  nationality,"  she  made  impersonal 
response.  "  You  Americans  are  always  given  to  so 
much  slang." 

"  That  is  the  reason  our  language  is  so  rich,"  Rob 
retorted  promptly.  "  We  are  constantly  mining  in 
the  depths  of  —  of  —  " 

"The  alphabet?" 

"  The  slums  ?'" 

Amy  Pope  and  Janet  made  the  suggestions  at  the 
same  instant.  Rob  chose  the  former. 

"  Thanks.  The  alphabet,  for  new  material.  To 
be  sure,  like  all  other  mining,  we  don't  do  the  work 
ourselves.  We  leave  that  for  the  sophomore  of  the 
fresh-water  college,  and  then  we  appropriate  the 
output  and  —  Hullo,  Irene !  I  did  n't  observe  you 
till  just  now.  What  doing  ?  " 

"  I  am  darning  the  stockings  of  the  entire  com- 
munity," Irene  answered  from  the  deep  windowseat 
where  she  had  perched  herself.  "  In  the  meantime, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  89 

I  am  thanking  my  lucky  stars  that  I  have  a  Wade 
to  play  with,  and  am  therefore  not  in  the  pageants. 
Kot  one  of  these  girls  would  think  she  could  make 
herself  a  plain  gingham  frock ;  and  look  —  " 

"  Irene !  "  Sidney  interrupted.  "  I  made  nine, 
this  summer." 

"  Trot  'em  out,"  Rob  advised  her.  "  You  don't 
look  it,  Sidney;  and  Irene  is  in  a  mood  to  take 
nothing  on  trust." 

"  They  were  n't  all  mine,  by  any  means.  The 
twins  and  Phyllis  got  them,  all  but  one.  That  hap- 
pens to  be  the  one  I  'm  wearing  now."  Sidney  rose, 
as  she  spoke,  and  brushed  the  clippings  of  satin  from 
her  chambray  gown. 

Rob  studied  her  admiringly  for  a  moment,  studied 
her  firm,  erect  pose,  her  laughing  face,  her  steady 
eyes.  He  studied  even  her  gown  which  seemed  in 
some  way  a  part  of  her  personality,  as  if,  in  colour 
and  in  cut,  another  would  have  been  incongruous. 
Then,  his  scrutiny  and  his  gravity  alike  ended,  he 
renewed  his  chaff. 

"  When  I  grow  up  and  be  a  nice  young  lady,"  he 
announced ;  "  I  shall  be  like  Irene,  and  sew  only 
useful  things,  like  towcloth  and  black  stocking  heels. 
What  were  you  remarking,  Day  ?  " 

"  That  I  want  you  to  see  how  fine  I  look."  And 
she  turned  herself  about  for  his  approval. 

He  gave  it  unreservedly,  as  he  always  did  give  it 
to  Day.  None  the  less,  he  sought  to  modify  it  by  his 
words. 


90  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  I  think  I  have  observed  before,  Day,  pretty  is 
as  pretty  does.  You  look  very  nice  and  neat;  but 
you  are  as  vain  as  a  young  peacock.  I  expect  you  '11 
take  to  pawing  the  ground  with  your  hind  heels, 
as  they  do  in  the  minuet.  Here,  stand  still,  you 
thing  of  beauty !  How  do  you  suppose  we  are  going 
to  observe  you  properly,  if  you  hop  about  like 
that  ?  " 

Indeed,  Rob  spoke  truly.  In  her  dress  for  the 
court  of  Francis  First,  Day  was  a  thing  of  beauty 
and  of  girlish  charm.  The  skirt  hung  about  her  in 
heavy  folds  of  pale  green  satin ;  the  bodice  was  velvet 
of  a  darker  green,  with  puffed  sleeves  and  a  high, 
stiff  collar  which  framed  her  plump  young  throat  and 
rose  to  form  a  striking  background  for  her  eager 
face  and  for  the  high-piled  masses  of  her  hair.  A 
bit  of  lace  softened  the  edges  of  the  wide,  square 
neck,  and  a  string  of  cairngorms  set  in  silver 
added  the  needed  touch  of  contrast  to  her  pretty 
costume. 

"  It  really  is  becoming,  Day."  Irene  slid  out  of 
her  windowseat  and  joined  the  group  at  the  other 
end  of  the  large  room.  "  I  can't  see  why,  though," 
she  added  thoughtfully. 

Day  laughed. 

"  Take  it  out  of  me,  dearie ;  do,"  she  urged,  with 
perfect  good  temper.  "  Anybody  can  wear  green." 

"  Anybody  can't,  then,"  Janet  protested  suddenly. 
"  Did  you  ever  see  me  try  it  ?  " 

But  Irene  spun  about  sharply,  and  faced  the  trim, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  91 

dark  little  figure  in  the  sea  of  rose-pink  breadths 
whose  faint  reflection  was  lighting  the  face  above 
into  more  than  a  hint  of  brilliant  beauty. 

"  After  this,  we  don't  want  to  see  you  in  anything 
but  pink,  Janet,"  she  said  decidedly.  "  Once  for 
all,  it  settles  my  bridesmaid  colour,  for  the  others 
can  wear  it,  and  you  must.  It  was  providence  that 
gave  you  that  pink  group  for  yours." 

Janet  laughed. 

"  Providence,  or  Gladys  ?  "  she  asked.  "  For  my 
part,  I  suspect  it  was  the  latter,  for  Gladys  is  more 
potent  than  most  people  are  aware.  Her  father  is 
backing  the  whole  thing." 

"  Who  is  to  be  your  final  partner,  Janet  ? " 

"  A  new  Englishman  who  has  just  come  out.  I 
haven't  seen  him  yet;  but  Gladys  says  he  is  nice 
and  dances  adorably.  I  also  hope  he  can  talk, 
though,  if  we  are  expected  to  look  interested,  in  all 
the  pauses." 

"  Englishmen  never  talk,"  Day  said  serenely. 
"  Their  looks  don't  belie  them,  either ;  they  look 
unutterable." 

"  Insufferable,  you  mean,"  Eob  corrected  her. 
"  Say  it  out,  Day;  Jack  is  reading  the  papers, 
downstairs." 

Day's  correction  came  swiftly. 

"  Jack  is  n't  English,"  she  said ;  "  he  's  us." 

"  Before  that,  he  was  n't  English,  but  Canadian," 
Janet  offered  further  correction. 

Rob  laughed  tolerantly. 


92  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  '  Oh,  Canada!  Our  fathers'  land  of  old, 
Thy  brow  is  crowned  — '" 

he  hummed.  "  It 's  all  the  same  thing,  Janet.  What 
I  deplore  about  you  all  is  your  beastly  loyalty.  Has 
anybody  seen  Paul  ?  " 

"  Poor  Paul !  "  Sidney's  tone  belied  the  pity  in 
her  words.  "  By  some  mistake,  they  sent  him  scar- 
let lacings  for  his  shoes,  and  he  's  gone  to  see  about 
changing  them." 

"  I  'd  have  worn  them  as  they  were,"  Rob  said,  as 
he  shook  out  the  purple  trunks  and  hose  that  still 
dangled  across  his  knee.  "  A  touch  of  colour  would 
have  gladdened  this  half -mourning." 

"  Amy's  frock  will  do  that,"  the  other  Amy  told 
him. 

"  Amy  Pope  ?    Is  she  dancing  with  him  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  Amy  Browne  made  answer  tran- 
quilly, and,  as  she  spoke,  Sidney  cast  a  hasty  glance 
at  Janet. 

In  the  week  that  had  gone  by  since  her  walk  with 
Paul  upon  the  glacis,  it  had  seemed  to  Sidney  that 
there  had  been  a  suggestion,  now  and  then,  of  some- 
thing verging  on  the  old  relation  between  Janet  and 
her  cousin.  Years  before,  during  the  one  summer 
they  had  spent  together  at  Grande  Riviere,  Paul  and 
Janet  had  been  rare  chums.  Equally  matched  in 
age,  they  had  been  just  as  equally  matched  in  their 
appetite  for  out-door  sports,  for  teasing,  rollicking 
fun.  They  had  fished,  and  tramped  the  mountain 
trails,  and  ridden  on  the  floating  logs;  they  had  lost 


JANET  AT  ODDS  93 

themselves  in  the  bush,  and  had  had  drenchings  times 
without  number.  They  had  squabbled  ceaselessly,  but 
in  a  jovial  sort  of  fashion  which  ruffled  their  good 
temper  and  their  mutual  liking  not  one  whit.  Then 
they  had  gone  their  ways,  the  one  to  luxury;  the 
other,  by  a  sudden  change  of  fortune,  to  the  grinding 
economy  which  is  so  much  worse  than  abject,  care- 
free poverty.  In  the  years  since  that  time,  Paul  had 
gained  in  exuberant  jollity  in  proportion  as  Janet 
had  gained  in  reticence.  Each,  meanwhile,  had  held 
closely,  all  those  years,  to  the  memory  of  the  old- 
time  friendship.  Each  one,  now  that  they  had  once 
more  come  together,  was  prepared  to  meet  it,  not  in 
the  mood  in  which  it  had  been  abandoned;  but  ac- 
cording to  the  newer  phases  of  his  character. 

Under  such  conditions,  there  was  no  especial  won- 
der that  the  meeting  had  not  prospered.  Janet, 
grown  starchy  in  her  reticence,  starchy  and  a  wee 
bit  critical,  had  been  at  no  pains  to  cover  her  aston- 
ishment at  the  whoop  of  jovial  greeting  which  Paul 
sent  on  before  him  up  the  street.  And  Paul,  leaping 
up  the  steps  to  meet  her,  as  she  stood  there  waiting, 
was  plainly  as  much  upset  as  she  had  been,  when  his 
hearty  handshake  was  received  with  stiffly  outstretched 
fingers  and  eyes  drooped  towards  his  feet.  He  could 
not  know  that  Janet  was  secretly  longing  to  shut  her 
hand  hard  over  his  and  to  meet  his  gray  eyes  squarely, 
could  not  know  the  girlish  shyness  and  self-distrust 
which  held  her  back  from  any  demonstration.  Nor 
yet  could  Janet  know  that  this  great  jolly,  slangy 


94  JANET  AT  ODDS 


guest  of  hers  had  been  counting  for  days  upon  the 
quality  of  the  greeting  he  had  every  reason  to  ex- 
pect, had  been  hurt  to  the  quick  by  the  quality  of  the 
greeting  she  accorded  him. 

The  longer  the  anticipations  of  such  a  meeting 
and  the  shorter  the  meeting  itself,  the  longer  are 
bound  to  be  its  results.  If  Janet  had  stuck  to  her 
proper  place  as  hostess,  Paul  would  have  ended  by 
realizing  the  welcome  hidden  under  her  chilly  man- 
ner, for  the  jovial,  rollicking  fellow  was  by  no  means 
dense.  Instead  of  that,  however,  Janet  had  muttered 
some  vague  excuse  which  centred  in  Mary  Browne, 
and  had  vanished  towards  the  kitchen,  leaving  Sidney 
to  do  the  honours  in  her  stead.  By  the  time  Janet 
reappeared,  a  good  hour  later,  Paul  was  so  much 
engrossed  with  Irene  and  Amy  Pope  that  he  acknowl- 
edged the  presence  of  his  former  chum  with  the 
most  cursory  of  nods. 

This  state  of  affairs  had  existed  for  some  days,  un- 
noticed, to  be  sure,  by  all  the  party  except  three. 
Those  three,  Paul,  Janet  and  Sidney,  were  acutely 
uncomfortable.  The  others  saw  no  cause  for  dis- 
comfort, even  if  Paul  accorded  to  Janet  no  more 
attention  than  he  gave  to  pretty,  fluffy  Amy  Browne. 
The  one  by  reason  of  her  reticence,  the  other  by  her 
purely  ornamental  qualities,  was  plainly  no  fit  com- 
panion for  a  lusty,  outspoken  youth  like  Paul.  It 
was  far  more  fitting  that  he  should  pair  off  with 
Amy  Pope,  whose  energy  matched  his  own. 

Paul,  being  the  sort  of  boy  he  was,  regretted  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  95 

situation,  but  lost  no  time  in  idle  repinings.  He 
would  have  preferred  to  play  with  Janet.  Janet 
holding  herself  aloof  from  him,  however,  he  must 
take  the  next  best  thing  that  offered.  Janet  was 
constituted  otherwise.  She  shut  her  teeth  and  went 
her  way,  although  the  present  situation  was  bidding 
fair  to  ruin  her  pleasant  summer.  And  Sidney,  the 
last  one  of  the  trio,  also  shut  her  teeth.  While  she 
shut  them,  she  studied  how  to  go  to  work  to  rectify 
matters.  Her  talk  with  Paul  had  been  the  result 
of  that  study,  and  it  did  its  work.  Before  the  week 
was  ended,  she  had  the  gratification  of  seeing  Paul 
and  Janet  starting  for  rehearsal,  side  by  side,  in 
quite  their  old  way. 

By  this  time,  rehearsals  were  the  order  of  the  day, 
and  pageants  the  central  theme  of  conversation.  The 
quaint  old  rock-walled  city  was  on  the  eve  of  its 
three-hundredth  birthday  party,  to  which  a  trio  of 
nations  had  been  bidden,  on  which  the  eyes  of  Europe 
and  the  western  world  were  bent.  And,  to  entertain 
the  guests,  there  were  to  be  fireworks  and  parades, 
illuminations  and,  best  of  all,  a  series  of  eight  mon- 
ster pageants  reviewing  the  history  of  the  colony 
from  its  babyhood  until  its  present  grown-up  day. 

Everybody  was  in  the  pageants,  as  a  matter  of 
course;  everybody,  that  is,  who  could  wear  a  cos- 
tume and  act  a  part.  It  was  the  simple  law  of  the 
pageants  that  everybody  should  be  doing  something, 
a  most  natural  something,  at  every  instant;  and  to 
achieve  this  end  with  three  thousand  different  actors, 


96  JANET  AT  ODDS 


rehearsals  must  go  on  unceasingly.  Accordingly, 
day  after  day,  as  the  afternoon  sun  dropped  west- 
ward, the  crowd  of  actors  followed  westward,  too,  to 
gather  on  the  monstrous  out-door  stage  above  the 
river,  and  go  through  their  parts  until  the  fallen 
twilight  drove  them  home  again  to  wait  for  the  com- 
ing of  another  day.  And  meanwhile,  morning  after 
morning,  all  over  the  city  groups  of  girls  were  gath- 
ered, sewing  busily  on  the  gay  breadths  of  satin 
and  silk  and  velvet  which  were  to  form  their  pretty 
costumes,  while  the  masculine  actors  went  their  ac- 
customed way,  relying,  sometimes  vainly,  on  the  com- 
mittee who  had  agreed  to  furnish  forth  their  finery. 
Into  one  such  sewing-bee  Rob  Argyle  had  penetrated ; 
and  now,  with  Paul's  costume  dangling  across  his 
knees,  he  sat  looking  on,  advising  the  others  and 
plainly  enjoying  himself  to  the  very  utmost. 

"  When  do  we  get  a  dress  rehearsal  ?  "  he  inquired 
at  length. 

"  It  depends  on  the  pageant  we  're  in,"  Janet  said, 
as  she  threaded  her  needle.  "  I  hear  they  're  going 
to  begin  them  about  a  week  before,  and  sell  tickets 
to  the  last  ones." 

"  A  week  before.  That  should  be  next  week,"  Rob 
said  thoughtfully.  "  Mother  and  Wade  will  be  here 
then.  What  a  shame  dad  can't  come,  too !  " 

Day  looked  up. 

"  Want  a  bit  of  news,  Rob  ?  "  she  queried. 

"  Is  he  coming  ?  " 

"  For  gala   day.      I   heard,   this   morning ;     you 


"  All  over  the  city  groups  of  girls  were  gathered,  sewing 
busily."  —  Page  96. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  97 

were  n't  here,  when  the  letter  came.  Else,  I  should 
have  told  you." 

"  Miss  Janet,"  Elsie  spoke  from  the  threshold ; 
"  Miss  Horth  is  downstairs.  She  'd  like  to  see  you." 

Janet  started  alertly  to  her  feet. 

"  Gladys  ?  Most  likely  she  has  come  to  tell  me 
something  about  my  Englishman.  I  '11  be  down, 
Elsie,  as  soon  as  I  can  make  myself  presentable." 

However,  Janet's  interpretation  of  the  word  pre- 
sentable was  a  strict  one;  and  there  was  a  long  in- 
terval before  she  did  present  herself  to  the  waiting 
guest.  The  guest,  meanwhile,  was  occupied  in  star- 
ing at  the  stranger  young  man  who  sat  at  the  far 
end  of  the  room  into  which  she  had  been  ushered 
to  await  her  hostess.  Too  much  absorbed  in  his  paper 
to  heed  the  low  voices  and  the  light  footfall  of  the 
guest,  he  sat  there  reading  on  and  on,  wholly  un- 
conscious of  his  pretty  young  countrywoman  whose 
gaze  was  bent  on  him  steadily,  approvingly,  yet  with 
a  hint  of  question.  She  saw  before  her  a  sturdy, 
broad-shouldered  man  of  the  middle  twenties,  well- 
knit,  well-dressed,  well-groomed.  Only  his  profile 
was  towards  her.  She  could  see  the  strong,  sharp 
lines  of  the  face,  the  level  eye,  the  shapely  chin.  She 
studied  the  face  intently,  partly  because  she  was 
lacking  other  interest  just  then,  partly  because  she 
was  held  by  a  baffling  resemblance  to  some  one  whose 
identity  she  could  not  place. 

Then  Janet  came  in,  dainty  and  cordial.  At  the 
stir  of  her  coming,  the  young  man  looked  up,  rose, 

7 


98  JANET  AT  ODDS 

came  forward,  was  introduced  and,  after  a  few  words, 
went  his  way.  Gladys  stared  after  him  for  a  mo- 
ment. Then,  dismissing  him,  she  went  directly  to 
the  subject  of  her  errand. 

"  Janet,"  she  burst  out  eagerly ;  "  I  am  perfectly 
content." 

"  That 's  good,"  Janet  made  calm  assent.  "  What 
now  ? " 

"  Louise  Gehanne  is  ill." 

"  That 's  kind  of  you,"  Janet  retorted. 

"  Wait.  That 's  not  the  real  reason.  Of  course, 
I  'm  sorry  on  her  account.  But,  as  long  as  she  is 
out,  I  am  simply,  gloriously  happy,  for  you  're  to 
have  her  place  in  the  pageants." 

Janet  pricked  up  her  ears. 

"  Her  place  ?    Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  the  little  French  girl  who  has  been  doing 
Champlain's  wife.  He  — "  it  was  thus  that  the 
loyal  pageanters  alluded  to  their  English  coach; 
"  has  n't  liked  her  acting  a  bit.  He  has  been  asking 
about  you,  who  you  were,  and  where  you  trained, 
and  all  the  rest.  He  asked  my  father,  and  father 
told  me,  and  —  and  now  we  girls  are  all  delighted. 
We  all  of  us,  all  the  old  set,  have  been  wanting 
you  to  have  a  better  place.  You  're  one  of  us,  and 
we  're  so  glad  to  have  you  back  here  again,  and 
all  —  "  In  her  excitement,  Gladys  was  fast  becom- 
ing incoherent. 

Janet  had  flushed  and  paled  by  turns,  and  now  her 
breath  was  coming  sharply.  In  all  the  pageants,  no 


JANET  AT  ODDS  99 

one  part  had  appealed  to  her  more  than  that  of  the 
child  wife  of  Champlain,  who  had  come  out  with 
him  to  help  to  rule  the  baby  city  he  had  founded. 
It  meant  much  to  her  that  she  had  been  chosen, 
chosen  after  she  had  had  a  chance  to  show  her  powers 
of  acting,  to  take  the  part  of  the  dainty  little  wife. 
It  meant  far,  far  more  than  that,  however,  that  her 
old  friends,  dismissing  personal  ambition,  had  willed 
to  have  it  so.  Even  then,  however,  she  did  not  take 
in  all  their  plan  until,  her  rapture  ended,  she  faced 
the  practical  questions  of  the  change. 

Meanwhile,  Gladys  chattered  on. 

"  You  '11  get  a  note  from  him,  to-day.  He  told 
father  he  should  write  to  you  about  it,  or  else  call, 
himself.  You  '11  do  it ;  won't  you,  Janet  ?  " 

"  I  'd  love  it,  if  there  's  time  to  get  myself  trained 
for  it.  Of  course,  I  would  n't  take  it,  and  spoil  the 
part.  But,"  she  paused  a  little  blankly,  as  the  idea 
flashed  upon  her ;  "  but  what  about  the  costume  ?  " 

Gladys  smiled  serenely. 

"  That 's  all  settled,  long  ago.  You  're  coming  to 
our  house  to  be  fitted,  to-morrow  noon.  We  girls  all 
have  finished  up  our  costumes,  and  mother  has  sent 
for  Marie  to  come  to  help  us  out."  Then,  that  subject 
settled,  abruptly  she  shifted  to  another  one.  "  Janet." 
she  demanded ;  "  who  is  that  Mr.  Blanchard  ?  " 

"  Jack  ?  He 's  one  of  our  friends  who  is  here 
with  us." 

"  Yes ;   but  where  did  you  ever  know  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  a  friend  of  the  Argyles.     Really,  he  is 


100  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Mr.  Argyle's  secretary;  but  he  lives  at  their  house 
and  goes  everywhere  with  Rob  and  Day." 

"  Where  did  they  pick  him  up  ?  "  Gladys  persisted. 

"  Pick  him  up  ?    Gladys !     What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Only  that  I  'm  sure  he  's  the  man  who  used  to 
run  the  Springfield  sleeper,  a  few  years  ago.  I  used 
to  go  down  with  him  often;  and  I  knew  him  again, 
to-day,  as  soon  as  ever  he  spoke." 

For  an  instant,  Janet's  face  showed  her  perturba- 
tion. She  knew  the  social  tenets  of  her  former 
friends,  knew  they  were  rigid  and  not  to  be  ignored. 
Then  she  cast  aside  the  best  of  the  lessons  her  college 
life  had  taught  her,  and  dismissed  strict  truth  for 
the  sake  of  what  seemed  to  her  to  be  expediency. 

"  Gladys !  What  nonsense !  "  She  gave  a  care- 
less little  laugh.  "  Jack  Blanchard  is  Rob  Argyle's 
dearest  friend.  You  needn't  lose  your  head  like 
that,  on  the  strength  of  a  likeness  to  a  man  you 
never  really  knew." 

And  the  subject  was  closed,  but  not  the  incident. 


CHAPTER   EIGHT 

"  T  S  Miss  Leslie  at  home  ?  " 

i  Day,  who  had  met  the  stranger  on  the  steps, 
looked  up  into  a  shrewd,  middle-aged  face  which 
somehow  won  her  liking. 

"  She  is  n't  at  home.     I  'm  sorry." 

"  So  am  I,"  the  man  said,  and  Day  also  liked  his 
hearty  voice  and  the  finish  he  gave  to  all  his  con- 
sonants. "  I  wanted  to  see  her,  this  morning,  if  I 
could.  When  will  she  be  at  home  ? "  Plainly  he 
expected  an  invitation  to  come  in  and  wait. 

Day  dashed  the  expectation. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  repeated.  "  Miss  Leslie  has 
gone  for  the  whole  day.  She  went,  last  evening,  to 
stay  with  some  friends  at  Cap  Rouge." 

"  The  Blakistons,  likely,"  the  man  said,  as  if  to 
himself. 

Day  smiled.  His  obvious  familiarity  with  Janet's 
haunts  made  so  much  of  cordiality  on  her  part  seem 
safe  and  possible. 

"  Yes.  She  is  there.  Will  you  telephone  ?  Or 
can  I  take  a  message  for  her  here  ? " 

"  May  I  come  in  ?  Thank  you.  You  are  Miss 
Leslie's  friend,  one  of  the  friends  who  came  up  here 
with  her,  that  is  ?  " 

Day  laughed. 


102  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Yes.  I  'm  her  business  manager,"  she  said  as 
calmly  as  if  her  elevation  to  that  office  had  not  been 
made,  that  very  instant.  "  Can  I  do  something  for 
you?" 

The  man  laughed  in*  his  turn.  Then  he  handed 
Day  a  card  which  bore  a  name  she  knew  well  by 
local  reputation,  and  an  official  title  high  up  on  the 
list  of  sponsors  for  the  coming  celebration. 

"  Yes,  do  come  in,"  she  said,  with  a  total  change 
of  accent.  "  I  am  Miss  Argyle.  I  have  heard  all 
the  Leslies  speak  of  you  often.  You  were  so  good 
to  them  in  their  trouble." 

"  Mr.  Leslie  was  a  friend  of  mine,"  the  man  said 
briefly.  "  Now,  Miss  Argyle,  I  am  in  a  great  hurry, 
this  morning,  and  I  must  come  to  the  point.  Are 
you  willing,  on  Miss  Leslie's  account,  to  tell  me  if 
this  house  is  full  ?  " 

Day  reflected  swiftly,  swiftly  recalled  what  she 
had  heard  about  the  coming  congestion. 

"  Comfortably,"  she  made  guarded  answer. 

The  face  before  her  cleared  a  little  from  under  its 
anxious  clouding. 

"  But  not  uncomfortably  ? "  His  voice  was 
eager. 

"  Not  a  bit.  The  rooms  are  huge,  and  we  girls 
are  used  to  piling  up,  in  summer,"  Day  responded. 

"  Could  you  put  in  another  one  ?  " 

"I?" 

"  Miss  Leslie,  of  course  I  mean,"  the  man  cor- 
rected himself  hastily. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  103 

"  She  could.  I  am  not  sure  she  would,  however. 
It  might  depend  somewhat  upon  the  one." 

"  But  there  is  a  room  ?  " 

"  There  is  n't  now.  And  two  more  people  are 
coming,  to-morrow."  Day  forestalled  his  increasing 
eagerness. 

He  rose. 

"  I  am  sorry.  I  had  hoped  there  was  a  chance  that 
Miss  Leslie  —  " 

Day  interrupted  him,  and  went  straight  to  the 
point. 

"  Just  what  is  it  that  you  want  ? "  she  asked 
directly. 

The  answer  was  fully  as  direct. 

"  I  want  a  room  and  board  for  Lady  Wadhams." 

"  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  —  Why,  she  is  Lady  Wadhams,"  the  man 
said  blankly.  "  Besides  that,"  he  added  hastily  for 
Day's  enlightenment ;  "  she  is  sister  to  —  "  And  he 
uttered  a  name  known  the  Dominion  over. 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  republican  Day  said  politely; 
"  but  I  'm  afraid  I  don't  know  about  him,  or  what 
he  has  done.  However,  the  main  question  is,  is  Lady 
Wadhams  nice .  to  know  ?  " 

"  Of  course."  "No  types  can  express  the  shocked 
fervour  of  the  accent. 

"  What  makes  her  want  to  come  here  ?  "  Day  pur- 
sued, with  further  directness,  for  she  was  a  little 
nettled  by  the  accent. 

"  She  does  n't.     It  is  my  plan  for  her." 


104  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"Why?" 

"  Because  I  know  the  Leslies,  and  how  comfort- 
able she  will  find  the  house.  And  —  " 

"  And  ?  "  Day  prodded  him  a  little  sternly. 

"  And,"  something  in  his  glance  involuntarily  be- 
trayed the  fact  that  he  liked  this  intrepid  young 
American  a  good  deal  better  than  he  approved  of 
himself  for  doing ;  "  and,  moreover,  there  is  n't  any 
other  suitable  place  where  she  can  go." 

Day  smiled.  She  had  extracted  the  confession  for 
which  she  had  been  angling. 

"  It  is  very  late  to  be  making  one's  plans,"  she 
observed  severely. 

"  Yes ;  but  Lady  Wadhams  was  delayed  beyond 
her  expectation."  Then,  dismissing  apology,  he  came 
directly  to  the  point  once  more.  "  Do  you  think 
Miss  Leslie  could  take  her  in  ?  "  he  asked. 

Day  answered  with  American  explicitness. 

"  It  would  depend  entirely  upon  what  Lady  Wad- 
hams  was  willing  to  pay  for  being  taken  in."  But, 
even  as  she  spoke,  she  rejoiced  that  Janet  was  not 
present  to  check  the  ungarnished  bluntness  of  her 
speech. 

"  Ten  dollars,"  the  man  suggested. 

Day  shook  a  scornful  head. 

"  Not  enough,"  she  said  briefly. 

"  My  dear  young  lady !  But  ten  dollars  a  day  is 
all  the  Chateau  asks." 

Day's  smile  never  changed.  No  need  to  tell  this 
stranger  that  she  had  supposed  his  offer  applied  to 


JANET  AT  ODDS  105 

the  week's  rate.  Ten  dollars  a  day  would  be  a  goodly 
penny  to  drop  inside  of  Janet's  coffers.  She  longed 
to  jump  upon  the  bargain,  embrace  it,  clinch  it  there 
and  then.  Instead,  she  held  herself  according  to 
her  code  of  dignity. 

"  Of  course,"  she  answered,  with  a  slow  thoughtful- 
ness  which  might  accompany  a  graceful  yielding; 
"  its  being  a  person  such  as  Lady  Wadhams  does 
make  a  difference.  I  think  perhaps  Miss  Leslie  — 
might  —  for  her  —  I  '11  speak  to  Miss  Leslie,  as 
soon  as  she  comes  in." 

Five  minutes  later,  she  escorted  the  caller  to  the 
door  and  watched  him  make  his  exit,  murmuring 
gratifiedly  to  himself.  Then,  turning,  she  ran  up 
the  stairs,  eager  to  spread  her  news  among  the  other 
girls,  sewing  in  the  room  above. 

To  her  extreme  surprise,  she  found  Janet  settled 
at  one  side  of  the  group. 

"  I  thought  you  were  at  Cap  Rouge,"  she  ex- 
claimed, too  much  astonished  at  Janet's  appearing 
to  heed  the  sudden  silence  which  met  her  coming  in 
at  the  open  door. 

"  I  was ;  but  am  no  more,"  Janet  replied  com- 
posedly. 

"  But  you  meant  to  stay  ?  " 

"  I  did.  I  changed  my  mind,  though.  Old  Mrs. 
Blackiston  was  taken  horribly  ill  in  the  night,  and 
I  decided  that  they  had  enough  to  do,  without  en- 
tertaining a  guest,  so  I  had  them  send  me  home, 
the  first  thing  this  morning." 


106  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  When  did  you  get  here  ?  " 

"  While  you  were  making  yourself  agreeable  to 
somebody  in  the  drawing-room." 

Day  laughed. 

"  I  was  agreeable,  too.  I  've  been  transacting  busi- 
ness in  your  name."  And  she  proceeded  to  repeat 
the  conversation  which  had  taken  place  below. 

The  other  girls  heard  her  to  the  end,  with  in- 
creasing hilarity;  but  Janet  plainly  was  aghast. 

"  Day !  What  have  you  done  ?  "  she  exploded, 
midway  in  Day's  narrative. 

"  Hush,  Janet !  Don't  interrupt.  It 's  splendid, 
Day;  go  on,"  Irene  urged. 

"But  Lady  Wadhams  —  " 

"  Who  is  she,  anyhow  ?  " 

"  A  great  swell  from  —  " 

"  I  hate  that  word  you  English  use,"  Day  inter- 
rupted, with  a  little  frown.  "  People  can't  be  divided 
up  like  that.  They  're  either  nice,  or  else  they 
are  n't ;  but  their  niceness  is  a  matter  of  their  brains 
and  their  ancestors,  not  of  their  butlers  and  their 
clothes.  Now  do  listen,  Janet.  Ten  dollars  a  day! 
You  would  n't  have  let  that  go  ? " 

"  You  could  n't  have  afforded  to,"  Amy  Pope  as- 
sured her  bluntly. 

"  But  where  can  we  put  her  ? "  Janet  protested. 
"  The  house  is  full  now,  and  Mrs.  Argyle  and  Mr. 
Winthrop  come,  to-morrow,  and  Mr.  Argyle  — " 

"  Nonsense !  "  Sidney  broke  in.  "  Wade  is  to 
room  with  Paul,  in  any  case,  and  you  've  saved  a 


JANET  AT  ODDS  107 

room  for  Mrs.  Argyle,  all  the  time.  Give  that  room 
to  Lady  What-you-call-her,  put  the  Argyles  into  our 
room,  and  Day  and  I  will  move  up  and  live  with 
you." 

"  Sidney !  You  can't.  The  room  is  n't  large 
enough  for  three." 

Day  took  up  the  word. 

"  What  utter,  arrant  nonsense !  How  many  times 
in  freshman  year  did  we  girls  pile  in  together,  just 
for  the  fun  of  the  thing?  I  remember  one  night, 
when  there  were  seven  of  us  in  Amy's  room.  What 's 
more,  we  '11  do  it  now." 

"  But  there  won't  be  a  thing  for  you  to  sleep  on," 
Janet  wailed. 

"  Move  our  beds  upstairs." 

"What  about  Lady  Wadhams?" 

Day  looked  a  trifle  blank.  That  aspect  of  the 
case  had  not  occurred  to  her. 

"  But  she  can't  sleep  in  more  than  one  bed  at 
once,"  she  urged  at  length. 

"  What  about  the  maid  ?  " 

"  He  did  n't  say  anything  about  a  maid." 

"  Most  likely  he  thought  it  was  n't  necessary," 
Janet  retorted  a  little  crushingly.  "  Anyway,  she 
is  sure  to  have  one." 

"  No  matter."  Sidney  rose,  as  if  to  end  the  dis- 
cussion. "  Day  and  I  will  make  up  beds  on  the 
floor.  It 's  no  use  to  protest  and  make  a  fuss  about 
it,  Janet.  Day  has  given  her  word,  and  it  is  my 
experience  that,  when  an  Argyle  says  a  thing  is  to 


108  JANET  AT  ODDS 


be,  not  even  an  earthquake  can  stop  it  from  happen- 
ing. Come  along,  Day,  and  we  '11  proceed  to  plan 
about  our  moving." 

Sidney's  sole  motive  in  rising  had  not  been  to 
end  the  discussion.  More  than  that,  she  was  anxious 
to  get  Day  out  of  the  room  before  any  echo  of  their 
recent  talk  came  to  her  ears.  For  once  in  her  life, 
Sidney  Stayre  was  thoroughly  angry  at  the  turn 
events  had  taken,  thoroughly  vexed  with  Janet  for 
making  them  take  that  turn. 

"  By  the  way,"  Janet  had  said  with  utter  non- 
chalance, as  soon  as  a  pause  followed  the  greetings 
which  had  hailed  her  unexpected  coming ;  "  there  's 
one  thing  I  want  to  warn  you  girls  about,  now  we  're 
alone." 

"  You  sound  mysterious,  Janet,"  Irene  remarked. 

"  Not  mysterious  exactly ;  only  I  wanted  to  say 
it,  naturally,  when  Jack  was  out  of  the  way.  Please 
be  careful,  all  of  you,  not  to  let  it  out  to  Gladys 
Horth  that  Jack  ever  ran  on  a  train." 

"  Why  not,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  "  Sidney  demanded 
shortly. 

Janet  pursued  her  theme  tranquilly,  too  much  ab- 
sorbed in  making  the  most  of  her  opportunity  to 
pay  any  especial  attention  to  Sidney's  voice. 

"  Perhaps,  while  we  're  about  it,  we  'd  better  not 
say  anything  to  any  of  the  girls  up  here." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Sidney  demanded,  for  a  second  time. 

Janet  glanced  up  calmly,  quite  unaware  of  the 
storm  her  words  were  likely  to  create. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  109 

"  Because  Gladys  is  sure  she 's  recognized  him. 
I  told  her  she  had  made  a  mistake;  not  told  her, 
that  is,  but  tried  to  make  her  think  she  had,  without 
exactly  fibbing.  Still,  we  don't  want  it  to  get  about 
up  here,  you  know." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  persisted  Sidney. 

"  Because  there  's  no  reason  he  should  suffer  for 
it  now,"  Janet  replied,  with  unabated  calm. 

"  Suffer  ?  " 

"  Yes.  It  would  be  horrid  for  Jack  to  have  the 
girls  all  cutting  him,  just  as  he  's  in  the  pageants 
with  them,  and  bound  to  see  them,  every  single 
day." 

"  But  why  should  they  cut  him  ?  "  Sidney's  voice 
was  ominous  in  its  level  quietness. 

"  Why,  because  he  used  to  be  a  conductor,  you 
know.  As  a  rule,  we  don't  have  to  dance  with  them, 
and  drink  tea  with  them,  and  all  that." 

"  Janet  Leslie !  You  disgusting  little  snob !  "  It 
was  Amy  Pope  who  spoke,  Amy  Pope  whose  great- 
grandfather had  been  Secretary  of  State  in  his  day, 
whose  father  was  a  man  of  millions  and  of  highly 
convoluted  brains.  For  the  past  five  minutes,  she 
had  been  swelling  and  reddening  with  her  wrath; 
yet  Sidney,  who  had  watched  its  coming,  was  not  pre- 
pared for  any  such  explosion. 

Janet  whitened  to  the  lips. 

"  At  least,  we  don't  in  Canada,"  she  amended 
caustically. 

Amy's  reply  was  equally  caustic. 


110  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Perhaps  not.  Still,  it  might  depend  a  little  on 
the  sort  of  man  the  conductor  turned  out  to  be,  and 
whether  he  was  willing  to  drink  tea  with  you." 

Janet  smiled  a  little,  and  lifted  her  chin. 

"  Not  with  us,"  she  answered  smugly. 

Amy's  colour  came  a  shade  more  hotly,  and  she 
raised  her  head  to  reply.  Then  she  checked  her- 
self, and  merely  observed,  with  slow  and  cutting 
emphasis,  — 

"  Then,  even  more  than  ever,  I  thank  my  lucky 
stars  that  I  'm  not  Canadian." 

Irene  broke  in,  and  hastily.  She  was  as  angry 
as  Amy  herself;  but  her  three  years  of  extra  age 
enabled  her  to  hold  herself  in  better  check,  increased, 
too,  her  anxiety  to  prevent  any  break  in  the  house- 
hold harmony. 

"  I  am  not  quite  sure  I  understand  you,  Janet," 
she  said.  "  Do  you  think  it  would  make  any  dif- 
ference in  Jack's  good  time  up  here,  if  your  friends 
knew  he  had  been  —  "  Illogically  enough,  her  loy- 
alty shrank  suddenly  from  putting  the  situation  into 
words. 

"  I  don't  think.  I  know,"  Janet  said  a  little 
sullenly. 

"  But  why ;  especially  when  it  was  all  over  with, 
so  long  ago  ?  " 

"  Our  friends,  as  a  rule,  don't  do  things  like  that," 
Janet  responded  loftily. 

"  How  much  worse  is  it  to  be  a  Pullman  car  con- 
ductor than  it  is  to  sit  on  a  stool  in  a  bank,  all  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  111 

year  round,  like  that  little  idiot  you  introduced  to 
me,  yesterday  ?  "  Amy  exploded  again.  "  One  is  a 
little  narrower  quarters  than  the  other,  for  the  con- 
ductor gets  an  occasional  change  of  scene,  and  he 
can  hide  in  the  baggage  car,  when  his  people  get 
too  great  a  bore." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  think  about  it,"  the  other 
Amy  chimed  in  suddenly.  "  If  a  man  behaves  him- 
self and  acts  a  gentleman,  he  can  —  sweep  the  streets, 
for  all  I  care." 

Janet  turned  upon  her  hotly. 

"  Rubbish,  Amy !  You  do  care  1  There  is  n't  one 
of  you  who  does  n't  draw  the  sharpest  sort  of  social 
lines." 

"  Of  course  we  do,"  Amy  Pope  responded.  "  The 
only  thing  is,  we  draw  the  lines  at  the  people,  not 
at  the  work  they  had  to  do,  once  upon  a  time.  Jack 
is  a  gentleman.  He  had  to  do  something  all  at  once, 
and  he  took  the  first  thing  that  came  along  for  him 
to  do.  Moreover,  he  did  it  well.  I  don't  see  what 
bearing  it  has  upon  the  present." 

"It  hasn't,"  Janet  conceded.  "That's  why  I 
want  to  keep  it  out  of  the  present." 

Irene  once  more  tried  to  make  herself  heard. 

"  You  really  think,"  she  said ;  "  that,  if  your 
friends  here  knew  —  " 

"  They  would  cut  him,  the  next  time  they  saw  him 
look  their  way,"  Janet  responded  flatly.  "  What 's 
more,  you  every  one  of  you  would  have  done  the 
very  same  thing,  yourselves.  You  took  him  first,  by 


112  JANET  AT  ODDS 

way  of  Day,  took  her  word  about  him  that  he  was 
really  nice.  Of  course,  when  one  knows  him  —  " 

But  Sidney  struck  in. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  she  said,  after  an  interval  of 
thought ;  "  that  you  really  —  really  fibbed  to  Gladys 
Horth?" 

Janet  turned  scarlet. 

"  I  did  n't  fib,  Sidney.  I  only  asked  her  if  she 
was  n't  mistaken." 

"  Hm !  Same  child  in  another  dress,"  Sidney  com- 
mented shortly.  "  I  thought  you  were  above  such 
things  as  that,  Janet  Leslie." 

"  I  did  it,  for  the  sake  of  Jack,"  Janet  defended 
herself. 

"  That  is  utter  nonsense.  Jack  can  stand  on  his 
own  merits,  without  any  need  of  your  fibbing  about 
him." 

"  But  I  did  n't  fib,"  Janet  protested.  "  And  Gladys 
is  a  gossip.  It  would  have  been  all  over  town  before 
rehearsal,  that  very  afternoon." 

"  Suppose  it  had  ?  " 

"  Then  nobody  would  have  been  nice  to  Jack." 

"  What  about  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  us !  "     Janet's  tone  was  disdainful. 

"  Yes,  us,"  Sidney  repeated  firmly.  "  We  came 
up  here  to  play  together,  you  know,  not  to  hang  on 
to  other  people." 

"  But  they  all  were  beginning  to  like  Jack,"  Janet 
urged. 

"  Well,  let  them  go  on  liking  him." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  113 

"  And  I  'm  sure  they  've   all  been  very  nice  to 

you." 

"  Nice  enough.  Still,  we  could  have  lived  without 
them,"  Sidney  answered  callously.  "  I  do  hope 
you  '11  also  refrain  from  telling  them  that  the  Stayres 
keep  only  one  servant,  and  make  all  their  pickles 
with  their  own  fair  hands,  to  say  nothing  of  their 
party  frocks." 

"  Sidney !  "  Janet  faced  her,  holding  her  eyes 
and  voice  as  steady  as  she  could.  "  I  'm  sure  you  're 
very  hard  on  me." 

Yet  once  again,  Irene  summoned  her  extra  years 
to  her  assistance. 

"  Janet,"  she  said  quietly ;  "  I  really  think  you 
have  mixed  up  things  rather  badly  for  us  all;  but 
I  do  believe  you  meant  it  in  all  loyalty  to  Jack.  If 
Jack  were  here,  he  'd  be  the  first  to  tell  you  that 
there  was  no  disgrace  in  that  old  work  of  his;  we 
all  are  glad  to  have  him  for  a  friend,  even  if  his 
was  n't  the  sort  of  work  our  brothers  ever  have  hap- 
pened to  do.  Those  things  are  a  good  deal  a  matter 
of  chance,  and  we  Americans,  more  than  you  do, 
believe  an  honest  gentleman  can  make  himself  wel- 
comed anywhere.  We  girls  all  think  you  've  made 
a  bad  mistake.  If  your  friends  wanted  to  cut  Jack, 
they  were  welcome;  there  was  no  especial  sense  in 
your  fibbing  to  prevent  it.  You  have  fibbed,  ac- 
cording to  my  notion;  and  all  we  can  do  now,  in 
simple  decency,  is  to  stand  by  that  fib  to  the  extent 
of  keeping  still.  It  would  only  make  a  bad  matter 
worse,  if  we  were  to  contradict  you." 


114  JANET  AT  ODDS 

4 

"  You  mean,  then  ?  "  Amy  Pope  asked  bluntly. 

"  That,  for  the  sakes  of  both  Jack  and  Janet,  all 
we  can  do  now  is  to  hold  our  tongues  and  let  matters 
take  their  course." 

Sidney  raised  her  hand  for  silence. 

"  Girls !  Girls !  Here  comes  Day  upstairs,"  she 
warned  them  hurriedly.  "  For  goodness'  sake,  don't 
any  of  you  girls  tell  her  a  word  about  it.  She  never 
would  forgive  Janet,  the  longest  day  she  lived." 

And  the  girls  heeded  her  warning;  but  events,  as 
it  proved,  did  not. 


A  HUGE  grandstand,  back  to  the  city  and  bent 
to  form  three  sides  of  a  mammoth  octagon, 
faced  outward  to  the  river  and  to  the  southern  hills 
beyond.  Upon  its  lofty  top,  a  pinnacled  pagoda  with 
red  hangings  awaited  the  coming  of  the  royal  guest. 
The  roof  of  the  royal  box  formed  the  platform  for 
the  coach  where,  megaphone  in  hand,  he  paced  to 
and  fro,  to  and  fro  with  ceaseless,  nervous  tread,  or 
halted  now  and  then  to  hurl  his  instructions  down 
upon  his  corps  of  actors.  Behind  the  grandstand 
and  across  an  open  field  whose  dusty,  trodden  turf 
and  border  of  gaudy  booths  inevitably  reminded  one 
of  the  entrance  to  an  American  circus,  behind  it  and 
far  away,  the  noise  of  the  city  dwindled  to  a  hum- 
ming silence,  more  like  the  droning  of  a  swarm  of 
bees  than  of  a  city's  bustling  life.  Before  it  opened 
out  the  stage,  hundreds  of  feet  across,  a  stretch  of 
rolling  country  dappled  with  clumps  of  bushes,  edged 
with  forest  trees  and,  at  its  farther  side,  dropping 
sharply  over  the  wooded  bluff  down  to  the  river,  far 
beneath.  And  on  that  very  stage,  a  century  and  a 
half  before,  the  rising  sun  had  struck  full  upon  a 
British  army,  silently  deploying  before  the  outmost 
barriers  of  ISTew  France,  deploying  for  the  battle 


116  JANET  AT  ODDS 

which  should  leave  them  victors,  yet  lacking  their 
gallant  leader  to  share  their  triumph. 

There  were  triumphs  of  another  sort  now,  triumphs 
enough  and  to  spare  for  all  the  giant  corps  of  actors 
whose  numbers  were  so  nearly  equal  to  those  of  the 
thin  red  line  who  had  marched  forth  to  battle  on  that 
selfsame  spot.  It  was  no  mean  achievement  they 
had  undertaken  and  accomplished,  this  setting  forth 
in  less  than  a  dozen  different  scenes  the  whole  pith 
and  substance  of  the  city's  three  hundred  years  of 
life.  The  long  weeks  of  preparation  were  ended, 
and  the  celebration  was  at  hand.  Of  the  success  of 
the  celebration  there  was  no  longer  any  doubt.  Few, 
however,  of  the  guests,  and  those  only  the  most 
thoughtful  ones  among  them,  in  watching  the  smooth 
succession  of  the  scenes,  could  gain  the  slightest  idea 
of  the  careful  study  which  had  gone  before. 

"  The  actors  themselves  don't  half  appreciate  the 
work  he  's  doing,"  Sidney  said  impatiently,  as  they 
were  crossing  the  street  behind  the  grandstand,  on 
their  way  to  the  final  dress  rehearsal.  "  They  take 
it  all  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  accept  it  calmly.  I  'd 
like  to  put  them  down  behind  the  scenes  at  one  of 
our  Smith  plays.  Then  they  would  begin  to  realize 
what  it  has  been  to  keep  this  crowd  in  order." 

"  Doubted,"  Amy  Pope  rebelled,  as  she  jumped 
across  a  puddle  with  a  bounce  out  of  all  harmony 
with  her  crinoline.  "  I  defy  anybody  to  get  a  clear 
notion  of  any  sort  from  behind  our  scenes.  They  're 
too  chaotic  for  that." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  117 

"  But  everybody  does  things  here,"  Day  added. 
"  Even  that  little  red  child  —  she  's  only  a  baby  — 
in  the  Phipps  scene  —  " 

"  It 's  the  costumes/'  Amy  Browne  interrupted. 
"  How  has  he  ever  found  out  what  they  ought  to 
be?" 

"  British  Museum  and  the  War  Office,"  Day  said 
briefly.  "  What  were  you  remarking,  Rob  \  " 

"  That  this  blasted  beast  of  mine  refuses  to  waddle 
at  this  pace.  Come  along,  Day.  Let 's  have  a  canter, 
and  see  if  we  can't  quiet  him  down." 

"  All  right.  There  's  time,  and  they  will  behave 
better  after  it,  I  suppose.  Come,  Jack."  And  the 
trio  of  friends  went  scampering  off  towards  Sillery. 

Amy  Pope  looked  after  them  with  something  akin 
to  a  sigh. 

"  I  do  wish  my  pony  had  n't  spilled  me,  when  my 
courage  was  young  and  callow,"  she  lamented.  "  It 
was  my  childish  dream  to  be  a  circus  lady,  and  have 
pink  clothes  and  a  calico  charger,  and  this  does  really 
seem  the  next  best  thing.  Cruel  to  have  it  denied 
to  me !  " 

"  Amy !  "  Janet  wakened  suddenly  from  the  rev- 
erie which  had  been  holding  her,  ever  since  she  had 
come  downstairs,  that  noon,  gowned  in  the  sombre 
mauve  so  curiously  out  of  keeping  with  the  years 
of  Champlain's  child  wife.  "  Amy,  how  can  you 
speak  of  it  like  that  ? " 

Amy  faced  her  in  honest,  good-tempered  surprise. 

"  Like  what,  dearie  ?  "  she  questioned  blankly. 


118  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Like  a  circus."  There  was  more  rebuke  held  in 
the  tone,  even,  than  in  the  words. 

"  Well,  why  not  ?  That 's  just  what  it  is,"  Amy 
responded,  laughing.  "  It 's  a  glorious,  high-art 
circus,  historical  and  very  splendid." 

But  Janet  shook  her  head. 

"  Not  on  this  ground,"  she  answered  quietly,  and, 
through  her  quiet,  one  felt  instinctively  that  she  was 
listening  to  the  tramp  of  ghostly  feet,  the  din  of 
ghostly  arms  and  war-shouts.  "  It  might  be,  in  some 
places;  but  not  here,  where  every  single  foot  of 
ground  has  its  own  bit  of  history.  How  does  it  make 
you  feel,  when  those  two  armies  come  up  together 
over  the  cliff  and  stand  there  side  by  side,  while  the 
band  is  playing  God  Save  the  King  ?  " 

"  As  if  I  'd  like  to  whistle  Dixie,1  Amy  made 
flippant  answer. 

Paul  plucked  her  by  the  satin  puff  which  served 
as  elbow. 

"  Come  along  here  and  say  '  How  ? '  to  Mrs.  Ar- 
gyle,"  he  urged  suddenly.  "  There  is  a  lot  of  time, 
and  I  want  old  Wade  to  see  my  purple  clothes  some 
more.  What 's  the  use  of  being  elegant,  if  you  can't 
get  yourself  envied."  And,  with  a  nod  to  the  others, 
he  led  the  way  off  at  a  sharp  diagonal  to  the  trail 
they  had  been  taking.  When  they  were  safely  out 
of  hearing,  "  I  say,  you  were  getting  on  thin  ice," 
he  warned  his  comrade.  "  I  've  heard  Janet  go  off 
like  that  before.  This  is  sacred  ground  to  her,  and 
a  sacred  subject.  Her  father  had  a  lot  of  material 


JANET  AT  ODDS  119 

put  together  when  he  died,  and  Janet  has  more  than 
a  notion  of  turning  it  into  a  history,  some  day  or 
other.  I  actually  believe  she  thinks  that  one  battle 
was  the  greatest  one  that  ever  was  fought;  she  looks 
like  a  veritable  Maid  of  Orleans,  when  she  talks 
about  it.  As  for  joking  about  it  —  I  sure  thought 
she  'd  have  you  by  the  throat,  before  I  could  get 
you  away." 

Amy  yawned. 

"  What  sense  ?  "  she  queried.  "  Everybody  is  dead 
and  buried  now." 

"  Yes ;  but  it  still  seems  to  be  a  sore  subject,  up 
here,"  Paul  mused.  "  For  my  part,  I  can't  see  the 
sense  of  putting  Wolfe  and  Montcalm  up  to  dance 
together.  Still,  I  'm  only  an  American,  and  can't 
get  up  the  proper  thrill.  First  day  I  saw  it,  I 
laughed." 

"  It  was  funny,"  Amy  admitted. 

Paul  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  corrected  her ;  "  it  was  n't.  I  was  only 
afraid  it  was  supposed  to  be.  With  these  English 
chaps,  you  never  really  know." 

They  found  Mrs.  Argyle,  with  Wade  and  Irene 
beside  her,  comfortably  settled  at  the  left  end  of  the 
grandstand  where  Irene  was  busily  engaged  in  pour- 
ing forth  the  lore  she  had  accumulated  during  the 
past  three  weeks,  and  in  pointing  out  the  major 
landmarks:  the  Indian  village  at  the  west,  the  little 
Don  de  Dieu  rocking  on  the  stream  beneath,  the 
crowds  of  gaudily-dressed  actors  piling  into  their 


120  JANET  AT  ODDS 

places  on  the  right-hand  stand,  the  helmet  of  a  stray 
member  of  Wolfe's  army  prowling  through  the  under- 
brush that  edged  the  cliff,  the  plaster  urn  being 
trundled  across  the  stage  by  a  pair  of  Jackies  from 
the  fleet,  ready  to  be  rushed  on  for  the  Fontainebleau 
scene,  a  little  later. 

"  Is  this  the  historic  path  ?  "  Wade  queried,  at 
the  end  of  Irene's  harangue  from  which  he  had  car- 
ried away  the  sole  impression  that  never  until  then 
had  he  appreciated  the  luminous  depths  of  her  brown 
eyes  and  the  eager  expressiveness  of  her  voice. 

"  Not  on  your  life,  Wadeikins !  "  Paul  assured  him 
promptly.  "  They  would  n't  run  any  risk  of  wear- 
ing out  their  best  piece  of  tourist  bait.  That  path 
catches  more  shekels  than  any  other  fly  in  their  book. 
It  looks  a  good  deal  like  this ;  but  the  looks  are  only 
skin  deep.  I  went  down  it  once,  so  I  know,  for  I 
fell  on  top  of  a  heap  of  shale  at  the  bottom  and 
skinned  my  nose  and  my  knees.  How  did  it  happen 
you  did  n't  come  out  here  before  ?  " 

"  I  was  n't  doing  any  great  amount  of  walking 
then,  you  know,"  his  older  brother  reminded  him. 

"  True,  oh,  King !  One  would  n't  think  it  now, 
though,  to  look  at  you."  And  Paul  stared  admir- 
ingly at  the  slim,  well-knit  man  seated  at  Irene's 
other  side. 

And  Paul  spoke  truly.  In  Wade  Winthrop's 
present  appearing  there  was  nothing  to  suggest  that 
there  had  been  a  time  when  he  had  been  banished, 
owner  of  a  pair  of  suspect  lungs,  out  of  his  law 


JANET  AT  ODDS  121 

office,  his  social  life,  his  home,  to  grow  as  strong 
as  he  could  in  the  Canadian  mountains,  while  he 
faced  the  possibility  of  a  lasting  invalidism  that 
seemed  to  him  to  be  worse  than  death.  Out  of  the 
experience  he  had  brought  two  blessings,  he  was 
wont  to  tell  all  comers:  health,  and  the  knowledge 
of  his  cousin,  Sidney  Stayre.  And  Sidney  had 
brought  him,  by  devious  ways,  to  his  affianced  bride, 
Irene.  That  summer,  then,  directly  and  indirectly, 
had  completely  reconstructed  his  whole  life.  Be- 
fore that,  he  had  been  a  Boston  lawyer,  a  little  too 
tenacious  of  his  own  aristocracy,  a  little  too  self- 
centred.  Now  he  was  a  successful  editor  of  a  ISTew 
York  daily,  a  man  of  broad  sympathies,  of  ripened 
knowledge  of  his  fellow  men.  A  sprinkling  of  gray 
hairs  marked  the  time  of  his  crossing  from  one  life 
to  the  other;  and  the  crossing  had  been  made  hand 
in  hand  with  Sidney. 

The  girl  had  come  to  him  out  of  the  vagueness 
which  often  veils  the  family  record.  She  had  found 
him  despondent,  querulous,  totally  absorbed  in  his 
own  invalid  concerns.  She  had  swept  down  upon 
him  without  the  slightest  reverence  for  his  point 
of  view.  She  had  weighed  him  by  the  measure  of 
her  common  sense,  and  she  had  found  him  sadly 
wanting.  By  coaxing  and  coercion  she  had  set  her- 
self to  work  to  make  good  the  want,  and  the  waning 
summer  had  put  upon  her  work  the  seal  of  its  ap- 
proval. Out  of  it  all,  Wade  Winthrop  had  emerged, 
not  only  healthful,  but  a  man.  Of  all  his  kin,  no 


122  JANET  AT  ODDS 

one  now  was  more  his  loyal  admirer  than  his  half- 
brother  Paul  with  whom,  in  past  years,  Wade  had 
been  in  almost  ceaseless  friction.  There  had  been 
no  uncertain  welcome  in  the  way,  that  very  noon, 
Paul's  hand  had  shut  on  his,  before  he  made  way 
for  Sidney  and  Irene. 

Now,  seated  on  Irene's  other  hand  and  listening 
with  inattentive  ears  to  her  enthusiastic  explana- 
tions, Paul's  gray  eyes  were  fixed  on  his  half-brother 
with  a  full  approval.  What  they  saw  was  a  trim, 
well-set-up  man  of  the  early  thirties,  distinctly  good 
to  look  at  by  reason  of  his  clean-cut  features  and 
his  sunny  smile.  Just  now,  the  smile  was  all  for 
Irene;  but  Paul,  watching,  was  quite  content  to 
have  it  so.  Was  it  not  that  very  smile  which  had 
won  Irene's  consent  to  become  his  own  half-sister  ? 

Mrs.  Argyle,  meanwhile,  was  alternately  chatting 
with  Amy  Pope,  and  nodding  to  friends  scattered 
here  and  there  among  the  audience.  A  winter  in 
Quebec,  a  few  years  before,  had  won  her  a  cordial 
welcome  at  many  a  fireside  in  the  city,  a  welcome 
which  had  surprised  her  by  the  promptness  of  its 
renewal  when  she  had  come  back  again,  three  days 
ago.  Now  and  then,  too,  her  eyes  rested  on  a  New 
York  face,  for  already  the  city  was  beginning  to 
swarm  with  guests.  Then  sharply  she  recalled  her 
attention  from  Amy's  chatter  and  from  the  smiling 
faces  of  her  friends.  Already  the  straggling  line 
of  Indians  was  trooping  towards  the  beach  to  meet 
Jacques  Cartier  and  his  sailors  as,  cross  on  shoulder, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  123 

they  came  singing  up  the  trail.  The  last  rehearsal 
of  the  pageants  had  begun. 

Notwithstanding  Day's  frequent  letters  filled  with 
bulletins  of  the  pageants'  progress,  Mrs.  Argyle  had 
confessed  herself  surprised,  three  days  before,  when 
she  had  stepped  from  her  car  at  Levis.  A  dress 
rehearsal  had  been  appointed  for  that  afternoon, 
and  the  Levis  wharf  was  swarming  with  actors  in 
brave  array:  Indians,  sailors  and  courtiers,  heralds 
and  beef -eaters,  soldiers  of  the  armies  of  Wolfe  and 
Murray  and  Montcalm.  They  dotted  the  crowd 
upon  the  ferry;  they  wandered  to  and  fro  in  the 
Quebec  streets.  They  even  dashed  out  from  the 
Leslie  house  in  Louis  Street,  and  fell  upon  her 
neck  in  eager  greeting. 

"  Do  give  me  a  little  time  to  get  used  to  you," 
she  begged  at  last.  "  There  is  so  much  wig  and 
cape  about  you  boys  that  I  can  hardly  tell  you 
apart.  As  for  you  girls  —  " 

"  We  're  lovely,"  Day  supplemented,  with  a  prance 
of  pure  rapture  which  was  out  of  all  harmony  with 
a  court  dress  of  green  satin.  "  Did  you  ever  see 
anything  quite  so  dear  in  all  your  life  ? " 

Mrs.  Argyle  laughed. 

"  I  certainly  never  saw  anything  quite  so  as- 
tounding," she  rejoined.  "  Do  stand  in  a  row,  all 
of  you,  and  tell  me  who  you  are,  while  I  take  you 
in.  No;  not  you,  Day.  You're  entirely  too  crazy- 
headed  in  all  your  finery.  Why,  Irene  child!  No 
costume  ? " 


124  JANET  AT  ODDS 


Irene's  answering  blush  was  as  becoming  as  any 
costume  could  have  been. 

"  I  thought,"  she  said  demurely ;  "  I  'd  stay  out- 
side as  critic,  and  as  guide  to  you  —  and  Wade." 

Mrs.  Argyle's  hand  upon  her  shoulder  was  full 
of  womanly  understanding ;  but  she  only  said,  — 

"  Then  guide,  please,  for  I  really,  in  the  face  of 
all  this  gorgeousness,  really  can't  remember  who  is 
who." 

Accordingly  they  lined  up  before  her  in  the  order 
of  their  appearing,  Rob  and  Day  and  Jack,  all  three 
courtiers  of  King  Francis,  the  two  boys  brave,  one 
in  vivid  blue,  the  other  in  dark,  dark  red,  with  Day 
between  them  in  her  greens.  Next  came  another 
group,  courtiers  also  and  partakers  in  the  coveted 
pavane  danced  at  the  court  of  Henry  Four:  Paul 
in  violet  trunks  and  tights,  a  tinselled  cape  dangling 
from  one  shoulder  and  a  plumed  hat  in  his  hand; 
Sidney  and  the  two  Amys  in  pointed  velvet  caps 
and  monstrous  crinolines.  And  last  of  all  came 
Janet  alone,  dainty  and  sweet  in  her  prim  little 
purple  robes,  her  jewels  and  her  mirror  dangling 
from  her  belt,  the  child  wife  whom  the  great 
Champlain  brought  out  with  him  from  France  to 
rule  with  him  over  his  city  of  eighty  souls  and  a 
few  savages. 

And  Mrs.  Argyle,  looking  little  more  than  a  mere 
girl  herself,  gave  them  her  unstinted  applause. 
Then  she  followed  them  to  the  door  and  watched 
them  up  the  street  until  they  vanished,  swallowed 


JANET  AT  ODDS  125 

up  in  the  crowd  of  brilliant  costumes  that  filled  the 
long  perspective  seen  beyond  the  Louis  Gate. 

"  No,"  she  answered  all  Rob's  urging ;  "  I  'm  not 
going  out  with  you,  to-day.  I  shall  stay  at  home 
and  wrestle  with  my  trunks,  instead.  I  don't  want 
to  see  any  of  it,  until  it  all  is  perfect." 

And  now,  the  Monday  after,  it  certainly  was 
perfect.  Even  the  coach  ceased  his  nervous  tramp- 
ing and  his  megaphoned  instructions,  as  the  second 
C  artier  scene  drew  to  an  end,  and  the  long  line  of 
mounted  courtiers  rode  slowly  off  the  field.  There 
came  a  little  pause  of  expectancy,  a  little  buzz  of 
conversation,  and  then  a  roar  of  applause  that  shook 
the  stand  to  its  foundations.  Out  from  the  right- 
hand  distance  behind  the  stand,  there  came  trotting 
full  half  an  hundred  Jackies  from  the  fleet  anchored 
in  the  river  below  the  terrace.  Outstretched  in 
their  midst  was  a  gigantic  square  of  bright  blue 
canvas,  spotted  over  with  huge  golden  fleur-de-lys, 
a  square  of  canvas  that  rose  and  fell  and  bellied  as 
they  came,  throwing  from  its  lustrous  surface  all 
manner  of  wondrous  lights  and  shadows,  of  chang- 
ing hues  that  ranged  from  vivid  violet  into  sombre 
gray.  Straight  across  the  stage  the  Jackies  trotted 
and,  without  an  instant's  break  in  their  rhythmic 
pace,  an  instant's  pause  of  indecision,  they  dropped 
the  monstrous  square  of  canvas,  outspread,  before 
the  royal  box,  and  went  their  way  to  vanish  in  the 
left-hand  distance,  their  rhythmic  trot  unbroken  to 
the  end.  After  that,  the  arrival  of  the  royal  court 


126  JANET  AT  ODDS 

and  the  dancing  of  the  pavane,  the  peacock  minuet, 
came  by  way  of  anti-climax. 

"  But,  by  Jove !  "  Wade  said,  as  he  pounded  his 
applause  at  the  closing  of  the  stately  dance ;  "  I 
never  saw  such  colour  in  my  life.  I  'd  like  to  go 
back  again  and  be  a  reporter,  for  the  mere  sake 
of  piling  on  the  adjectives." 

But  there  was  scanty  chance  for  conversation. 
The  last  courtiers  were  barely  off  the  stage,  when 
the  Jackies  trotted  in  once  more  to  bear  away  the 
royal  carpet ;  and,  a  moment  later,  the  jangling  bells, 
hidden  away  among  the  trees,  announced  Cham- 
plain's  return  to  his  baby  colony. 

All  the  colony  went  trooping  down  to  the  water's 
edge  to  greet  him.  Then,  while  the  cannon  boomed 
and  the  bells  clashed  merrily,  they  came  trooping 
back  again,  with  Champlain  and  his  girl  wife  in 
their  midst,  the  centre  of  plaudits  and  of  cheering. 
Champlain,  masterful  and  arrogant,  by  good  rights 
should  have  been  the  focus  of  all  eyes,  since  the 
whole  celebration  was  given  in  his  honour.  Instead 
of  that,  however,  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  Janet  Leslie, 
as  she  came  slowly  forward,  clinging  to  her  hus- 
band's arm,  womanly  in  her  dignity,  childlike  in 
her  modest  bearing,  her  dull  mauve  robe  trailing 
softly  across  the  trodden  grass  and  catching  into 
itself  all  the  purplish  glory  of  the  falling  twilight. 

She  went  through  her  part  so  simply  that  it  seemed 
less  a  part  than  life  itself;  she  received  the  greet- 
ing of  her  loyal  people,  the  eager  admiration  of  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  127 

dusky  Indians  who  pressed  about  her,  toying  with 
her  trinkets,  gazing  at  themselves  delightedly  in  her 
little  mirror.  Then,  when  the  savage  dance  was 
ended  and  the  citizens  once  more  drew  near  to  broach 
their  cask  of  wine  and  drink  her  health  and  wel- 
come, the  enthusiasm  no  longer  could  be  downed. 
Champlain  received  his  share;  but  Janet's  was  the 
real  ovation.  After  her  sorrow  and  her  change  of 
fortune,  after  her  three  years  in  the  great  American 
college,  Janet  Leslie  had  come  back  to  them  once 
more,  their  own  and  a  Canadian  still,  to  be  the  real 
queen  of  all  their  festival. 

But  even  the  loyal  young  Quebeckers  slackened  the 
clamour  of  their  glad  welcome,  and  paused  to  smile 
at  one  another,  as  their  gaze  rested  on  the  tall,  gray- 
eyed  stripling  in  violet  trunks  and  tights  who,  heed- 
less of  his  minuet  partner  standing  at  his  side,  leaned 
far  over  the  rail  of  the  right-hand  stand,  pounding 
his  hands  together  until  his  palms  were  blistered. 

From  far  across  the  mammoth  stage,  Janet  heard 
the  clamour,  lifted  her  head  and,  careless  of  all  who 
saw  her,  sent  a  smile  of  merry,  mocking  gratitude 
straight  to  its  eager  source. 


CHAPTER   TEN 

LiTE  that  same  evening  Lady  Wadhams  came. 
She  was  a  buxom  blonde  of  forty  plus,  mar- 
vellously gowned  and  with  a  face  as  totally  devoid 
of  expression  as  if  it  had  been  enamelled.  With  her 
came  an  assortment  of  hand  luggage  which  appar- 
ently included  everything  in  the  world  but  her  maid 
and  her  trunk,  both  of  which  articles  were  far  too 
impressive  to  be  listed  in  that  category.  The  cate- 
gory did  include,  however,  a  diminutive  Japanese 
poodle  who  objected  strenuously  when  the  carter 
ventured  to  step  down  on  the  pavement  to  accept 
his  fare.  As  he  also  objected  strenuously  to  Janet, 
it  might  be  reasoned  that  he  shared  the  aristocratic 
prejudices  of  his  mistress.  Be  that  as  it  may,  at 
least  he  was  less  inexpressive.  In  fact,  his  expres- 
siveness became  a  shade  too  strident,  and  the  maid, 
receiving  him  from  the  arms  of  her  mistress,  be- 
came expressive  on  her  own  account  and  slapped 
him  soundly. 

Only  Janet  and  Mrs.  Blanchard  were  waiting  to 
greet  her  Ladyship  in  the  hall,  although  a  fringe 
of  jaunty  ties  and  pumps,  dimly  visible  through  the 
banisters  of  the  upper  hallway,  betrayed  the  fact 
that  American  curiosity  was  rampant  up  above. 
Later,  it  stole  away  on  the  tips  of  its  toes,  and  took 


JANET  AT  ODDS  129 

counsel  together  in  the  room  of  Mrs.  Argyle  whose 
whispered  admonitions  to  it  to  be  good  and  come 
away,  had  been  quite  lost  in  the  din  of  the  arrival. 
When  the  last  piece  of  hand  luggage  had  been  de- 
posited on  the  floor  of  the  hall,  and  when  the  poodle 
ceased  to  monopolize  the  conversation,  Lady  Wad- 
hams  turned  to  Janet  who  stood  waiting,  dainty  and 
girlish  in  her  thin  muslin  frock,  to  lead  the  way 
upstairs. 

"  I  would  like  to  see  Miss  Leslie,"  Lady  Wadhams 
said,  and  her  voice  was  majestic. 

"  I  am  Miss  Leslie,"  Janet  replied  quietly. 

Lady  Wadhams'  lorgnette  was  of  mother-of-pearl 
and  fiercely  shining.  She  turned  it  full  on  Janet. 
Then,  - 

"  Impossible !  "  she  observed  briefly.  Then,  with- 
out another  word,  she  followed  her  maid  upstairs 
and  vanished  for  the  night  inside  the  room  which 
Mrs.  Blanchard  already  was  pointing  out  to  the 
impassive  nursemaid  of  the  poodle. 

Across  the  hall  and  behind  closed  doors,  the  con- 
ference lasted  long.  Now  and  then,  Mrs.  Argyle, 
as  in  duty  bound,  suppressed  some  utterance  too 
audible  or  too  outspoken.  At  heart,  however,  she 
agreed;  and  the  younger  generation,  feeling  her 
agreement,  disregarded  her  suppressions  utterly. 
Mrs.  Argyle  had  heard  the  voice;  above  all,  she 
had  heard  the  accent,  and  she  had  drawn  her  own 
conclusions.  The  Argyle  circle  was  singularly  free 
from  snobs. 


130  JANET  AT  ODDS 

At  length,  Jack  rose  to  his  feet,  in  token  that, 
for  him,  at  least,  the  discussion  was  nearing  its 
end. 

"  After  all,"  he  said ;  "  I  'm  sorriest  for  my 
mother  and  Janet.  It  will  come  hard  on  them.  The 
rest  of  you  are  Americans,  and  don't  care  a  hang. 
As  for  me,  I  've  seen  her  kind  before ;  they  used 
to  be  the  bane  of  my  sleeping-car  existence,  for  they 
filled  all  space,  wanted  all  the  privileges,  and  in- 
sisted on  tipping  me,  and  not  the  porter.  I  am  a 
little  sorry,  though,  to  have  you  get  the  notion  that 
this  is  our  upper  class.  It 's  not  the  real  thing  at 
all;  but  then —  But  my  mother  does  take  a  title 
desperately  in  earnest,  no  matter  whether  it 's  two 
years  old,  or  two  hundred.  As  far  as  Janet  is  con- 
cerned, it  will  use  up  all  her  spare  time  to  wait 
upon  the  prejudices  of  that  infernal  puppy." 

The  puppy,  as  it  proved,  was  by  no  means  the 
central  point  of  Janet's  woes.  The  woes  began  early, 
next  morning,  began  with  the  advent  of  Mary  Browne 
at  Janet's  bedside. 

"  Miss  Janet  dear,"  Mary  made  regretful  preface ; 
"  I  'm  sorry  to  be  disturbing  you ;  but  whatever  will 
I  do  ?  There  's  not  a  drop  of  water  to  be  had  and 
the  fat  lady  upstairs  is  ringing  her  bell  to  bits,  to 
have  me  bring  her  some." 

Janet  sat  up  in  bed,  and  rubbed  her  eyes.  It  was 
a  purely  conventional  thing  to  do,  however,  since  the 
last  touch  of  sleepiness  had  vanished  at  the  sound 
of  Mary  Browne's  anxious  voice. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  131 

"  No  water !  "  she  echoed  in  amazement. 

"  Not  a  drop  from  any  of  the  taps,  as  the  woman 
calls  them  that  scrubs  the  floors.  Faith,  I  'd  like 
to  see  her  tap  them  now.  They  're  dry  as  a  contri- 
bution box  in  a  country  church." 

Janet  gave  her  eyes  another  rub.  Then  she  dropped 
back  again  upon  her  pillow  and  lay  staring  up  at 
Mary  Browne  in  perplexity. 

"  Have  you  telephoned  yet  ? "  she  asked. 

"  To  what  shop  would  I  telephone  for  water  ?  " 
Mary  Browne  demanded.  Then,  seeing  the  real  con- 
sternation written  on  Janet's  upturned  face,  she  re- 
pented of  the  flippancy  of  her  question.  "  Where 
would  I  telephone  ?  " 

"  To  the  water  company.  Ask-them  —  Oh,  find 
out  anything  you  can.  I  '11  be  down  in  a  few  min- 
utes." And,  a  bath  being  obviously  out  of  the  ques- 
tion, Janet  seized  her  shoes  and  stockings. 

Mary  Browne  was  back  again,  before  her  young 
mistress  had  finished  brushing  out  her  long  brown 
hair. 

"  It 's  the  main  has  broke,  Miss  Janet  dear,  on 
account  of  their  turning  on  too  much  pressure  for 
all  these  extra  people.  There  's  no  water  anywhere ; 
it  will  be  noon,  before  it  comes." 

Dropping  her  hand,  brush  and  all,  to  her  side, 
Janet  faced  the  maid  limply. 

"  Mary  Browne !     What  can  we  do  ?  " 

"  Go  without,"  Mary  Browne  responded. 

"  Yes ;    but  Lady  Wadhams,  and  breakfast,  and 


132  JANET  AT  ODDS 

all  ?  "  Janet  urged.  "  I  could  manage  the  girls  and 
even  Mrs.  Argyle ;  but  Lady  Wadhams  —  What  will 
she  do  ? " 

"  The  same  thing  everybody  else  is  doing,  this 
morning,  and  the  same  thing  she  herself  would  do, 
if  she  was  at  the  Chateau.  People  will  have  to  wash 
in  a  pint  cup,  to-day ;  that  is,  if  they  're  lucky 
enough  to  wash  at  all.  As  for  breakfast,  go  and 
have  a  talk  with  Mrs.  Argyle.  She  's  got  the  Ameri- 
can sense  and  get-there  in  her,  and  she  '11  tell  you 
what  to  do." 

And  Janet,  forgetting  her  national  nerves  in  the 
more  urgent  crisis,  departed,  brush  and  all,  in  search 
of  Mrs.  Argyle,  amid  the  plaudits  of  Sidney  and 
Day  who,  by  this  time,  were  wel}  awake. 

Mrs.  Argyle  frowned  anxiously,  as  Janet  disclosed 
the  crisis. 

"  I  don't  like  it,  Janet,"  she  said  decidedly,  when 
Janet  had  ended  her  disclosure.  "  It 's  too  much 
like  a  preface  to  typhoid.  You  can't  be  too  careful, 
child,  no  matter  what  it  costs  you.  You  have  a  large 
tank  in  the  garret,  where  the  water  comes  into  the 
house  ?  Save  that  for  what  you  need  most,  and  be 
sure  you  boil,  boil  a  good  half  hour,  every  single 
drop  you  use  for  cooking,  all  this  week.  Boil  it 
hard.  For  the  table —  We  could  get  on  without, 
for  once;  but  I  suppose  —  " 

Janet  laughed. 

"  I  suppose  she  will,"  she  assented. 

For  an  instant,  Mrs.  Argyle's  face  became  as  merry 


JANET  AT  ODDS  133 

as  Janet's  own.  Then  she  returned  to  the  case  in 
hand. 

"  You  'd  better  wake  the  boys  at  once,"  she  said, 
still  with  the  quick  decision  that,  weeks  after,  proved 
to  have  been  their  best  protection.  "  Tell  them  to 
dress  as  fast  as  they  can,  and  go  out  to  buy  Apolli- 
naris.  They  must  get  it,  a  good  deal  of  it  and  at 
any  sort  of  price.  Ask  Rob  to  come  in  here,  before 
he  goes."  Then  she  smiled  up  into  Janet's  anxious 
face.  "  Don't  worry,  child,"  she  said  lightly.  "  That 
will  carry  us  through  the  day;  and  it  will  be  all 
right  by  to-morrow,  by  the  latest.  As  for  the  poodle, 
he  can  live  on  milk,  and  I  '11  take  her  Ladyship  on 
my  own  shoulders." 

However,  she  did  not. 

Lady  Wadhams  appeared  at  breakfast,  an  hour 
later,  clothed  in  a  frown  of  disapproval  which  in- 
cluded all  things.  She  also  wore  a  white  silk  frock 
and  a  dog-collar  of  pearls.  A  part  of  her  frown  she 
diverted  from  things  in  general  and  turned  upon  the 
costume  of  Mrs.  Argyle,  whose  dark  blue  linen  tailor- 
made  clothes  had,  as  it  chanced,  cost  far  more  money 
than  the  silk  frock  of  Lady  Wadhams.  For  reasons 
of  her  own,  moreover,  Mrs.  Argyle's  morning  trin- 
kets consisted  of  a  small  gold  brooch  and  her  wed- 
ding ring.  Lady  Wadhams  dropped  her  lorgnette 
with  a  click,  nodded  curtly  to  Janet,  curtly  to  Mrs. 
Blanchard,  seated  herself  and  fell  to  gazing  into 
space,  while  she  tapped  the  cloth  with  her  finger-tips. 

Mrs.  Argyle  repressed  her  own  smile,  shook  her 


134  JANET  AT  ODDS 


head  warningly  at  Day  whose  lips  were  twitching 
ominously,  then  turned  to  the  haughty  dame  beside 
her. 

"  Is  n't  it  a  charming  morning  ?  "  she  asked  cas- 
ually, as  she  took  up  her  napkin. 

The  gaze  removed  itself  towards  a  yet  more  dis- 
tant space,  the  plump  chin  lifted  itself  slightly,  and 
a  voice,  icily  remote,  responded,  — 

"  Keally  ?    I  had  n't  noticed." 

Amy  Pope  sneezed.     Later,  she  made  apology. 

"  I  had  to  do  something,  or  else  have  apoplexy," 
she  explained ;  "  and  it  is  so  trite  to  cough." 

"  Have  you  caught  cold,  Miss  Pope  \  "  Jack  asked 
her. 

At  his  voice,  Lady  Wadhams  lifted  her  glass  and 
took  a  prolonged  stare  in  his  direction. 

"  Your  son,  I  fancy,  from  his  accent,  Mrs.  Blan- 
chard,"  she  observed.  Then  she  turned  to  Jack,  with 
swift  effusion.  "  Really,  it 's  very  good  to  hear  an 
English  voice  again.  I  was  n't  expectin'  it  at  all." 

Before  Jack  could  forestall  her,  his  mother,  mani- 
festly proud  and  pleased,  had  uttered  the  introduc- 
tion; and  Lady  Wadhams,  after  a  second  and  more 
approving  stare,  lost  no  time  in  annexing  him  to  the 
list  of  her  own  possessions.  Jack  writhed  in  secret, 
as  he  met  the  demure,  but  mirthful,  glances  of  the 
girls;  but  he  could  not  well  refuse  to  answer  her 
Ladyship's  efforts  at  conversation,  and  bit  by  bit 
he  found  himself  drawn  into  talk.  Once  or  twice 
he  suffered  a  pause  to  grow  long,  for  the  sake  of 


JANET  AT  ODDS  135 

watching  Lady  Wadhams  turn  a  palpably  deaf  ear 
to  the  American  accent  around  her.  Once  Wade, 
seeing  Jack's  manifest  discomfort  at  being  singled 
out  for  attention,  sought  to  come  to  his  relief;  but 
Wade  was  promptly  snubbed  and  dismissed  to  his 
place  amid  the  outer  darkness.  And  the  situation 
ended  with  the  breakfast. 

Just  as  she  was  leaving  the  table,  Lady  Wadhams 
addressed  the  group  at  large. 

"  Is  it  an  American  custom,  I  wonder,"  she  ob- 
served languidly ;  "  to  serve  Apollinaris  for  one's 
breakfast  ? "  Then,  without  awaiting  a  reply,  she 
departed  in  search  of  the  more  congenial  society  of 
her  poodle  and  her  maid. 

Paul  gazed  after  her  through  the  half -shut  lids 
of  him  who  gazes  on  a  rare  old  picture,  seeking  to 
gain  the  full  value  of  its  perspectives. 

"  Nice  birdie !  "  he  remarked  benignly.  "  The 
last  time  I  saw  her,  though,  she  was  n't  so  keen  about 
discussing  American  customs  as  she  is  now." 

"  Saw  her  before !  When  was  that  ? ".-  the  two 
Amys  demanded,  in  eager  duet. 

Deliberately  Paul  rose  from  the  table,  deliber- 
ately he  crossed  to  his  half-brother's  chair. 

"  When  she  dined  at  our  house,  last  Christmas 
holidays,"  he  answered  nonchalantly.  Then  he  bent 
down  above  his  brother,  as  if  in  consolation.  "  Cheer 
up,  Wadeikins,"  he  adjured  him.  "  I  '11  write  home 
to  mother,  and  ask  her  to  send  on  a  certificate  that 
you  really  are  within  the  social  pale,  even  if  you 


136  JANET  AT  ODDS 

don't  look  it."  And  the  breakfast  ended  in  a  clamour 
of  mirth  quite  unlike  the  sombre  hush  of  its  beginning. 

Between  the  especial  exigencies  of  the  housekeep- 
ing developed  by  the  presence  of  Lady  Wadhams  and 
the  absence  of  water,  and  the  excitement  of  prepar- 
ing for  the  first  real  performance  of  the  pageants, 
all  that  morning  long  her  Ladyship's  eccentricities 
were  quite  forgotten.  One  and  all,  the  young  Amer- 
icans were  engaged  in  flinging  themselves  into  the 
breach,  the  boys  departing  in  search  of  mineral  waters 
and  bulletins,  the  girls  following  Janet  and  Mary 
Browne  and  even  Elsie  about  the  house  with  offers 
of  help  which  merely  would  have  added  to  the  gen- 
eral confusion,  had  they  not  been  so  full  of  good 
will  and  common  sense.  Even  Amy  Browne,  the 
least  efficient  of  the  group,  was  caught  in  the  general 
mood  of  energy,  and  Mrs.  Argyle  discovered  her,  a 
vast  tin  pail  in  hand,  just  starting  down  the  steps. 

"  Where  now,  Amy  ?  "  she  asked  carelessly. 

Amy  shook  her  pail  in  gay  good  nature. 

"  Down  to  the  Ring.  I  'm  going  to  bring  some 
water  up  from  the  fountain." 

Mrs.  Argyle's  carelessness  left  her  swiftly. 

"  No ;  you  're  not,  child,"  she  contradicted,  while 
she  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  Amy's  shoulder.  "  No 
one  knows  what  may  be  in  that  basin.  We  can't  be 
running  any  risks.  If  need  be,  we  '11  all  swim  in 
mineral  water  baths  and  cook  with  ginger  ale;  but 
this  city  water  must  be  left  alone  for  the  present." 
And  Amy,  secretly  relieved  at  being  freed  from  cer- 


JANET  AT  ODDS  137 

tain  pangs  of  conscience  which  had  goaded  her  to  her 
errand,  set  down  the  pail  in  a  corner  of  the  hall, 
and  went  in  search  of  her  embroidery. 

Not  until  high  noon  and  time  for  luncheon  did 
Lady  Wadhams  give  sign  of  her  existence.  Not  until 
the  luncheon  was  half  over  did  she  give  sign  that 
she  was  conscious  that  any  one  but  Jack  sat  with 
her  at  the  table.  Then,  suddenly  lifting  her  lor- 
gnette, she  swept  the  table  with  a  slowly-revolving 
stare  which  finally  came  to  rest  on  Mrs.  Blanchard's 
cluny  cap. 

"  I  thought  some  one  told  me,  Mrs.  Blanchard," 
she  said,  without  troubling  herself  to  drop  her  eyes 
from  the  cap  to  the  face  below ;  "  that  Mrs.  John 
Argyle  of  New  York  was  to  be  here  in  this  house." 

Mrs.  Blanchard's  sense  of  fun  was  not  exuberant; 
but  even  she  could  not  repress  a  smile. 

"  This  is  Mrs.  Argyle  beside  me,"  she  said  quietly. 

The  lorgnette  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  trim 
little  lady  in  the  dark  blue  frock,  aggressive  in  its 
plainness.  Then  it  fell. 

"  Really  not  ? "  said  Lady  Wadhams. 

Then  it  was  that  Day  choked  and  left  the  table. 

For  a  moment,  Rob  sat  gazing  after  her,  his  red 
face  expressive  of  acute  discomfort.  Then  he  ex- 
cused himself,  and  went  limping  away  in  search  of 
his  suffering  sister.  Unfortunately,  however,  he  for- 
got to  close  the  door  behind  him,  and  the  sounds 
which  came  drifting  down  the  stairs  were  plainly 
mystifying  to  Lady  Wadhams. 


138  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Do  you  suppose  we  ever  can  endure  it,  Rob  ? " 
Day  said,  as  at  last  she  wiped  her  eyes. 

"  We  must,  for  Janet's  sake,"  he  answered  grimly. 

"  But  without  disgracing  ourselves,  I  mean." 

Rob  laughed. 

"  If  this  sort  of  thing  goes  on,  I  am  much  more 
afraid  of  our  disgracing  Janet.  Still,  how  can  a 
fellow  keep  from  chortling?  I  thought  I  had  seen 
snobs  before ;  but  she  's  outside  the  uttermost  limit. 
What  do  you  suppose  mother  probably  said  next  ? " 

Day  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  that  the  worst 
of  her  giggling  fit  was  finished. 

"  I  don't  see  that  there  was  anything  left  for  her 
to  say,  until  she  could  show  off  her  marriage  cer- 
tificate. Rob,  if  this  goes  on  for  another  meal,  I 
shall  —  " 

Rob  interrupted. 

"  You  Ve  no  right  to  laugh,  Day ;  you  're  the  one 
who  brought  it  on  us  all.  If  I  remember  rightly, 
it  was  you  who  made  the  bargain." 

"  Does  it  strike  you,"  Day  inquired ;  "  that  there  's 
a  certain  humour  in  the  way  she  is  snubbing  mother 
and  Wade,  and  taking  dear  old  Jack  to  her  heart? 
I  wonder  what  she  'd  say,  if  —  " 

However,  she  was  soon  destined  to  find  out. 

Dinner  went  a  shade  more  smoothly.  The  meal 
was  very  late,  since  the  entire  household,  from  Lady 
Wadhams  down  to  Elsie  and  only  excepting  Mary 
Browne  and  the  poodle,  had  been  out  to  the  pageants 
in  the  afternoon.  Accordingly,  it  was  long  past 


JANET  AT  ODDS  139 

eight  o'clock  when  they  gathered  in  the  dining-room, 
a  gorgeous  group.  The  younger  ones  were  in  their 
pageant  costumes,  while  Mrs.  Argyle,  yielding  to 
the  protestations  of  her  daughter,  had  abandoned  her 
tailor-made  frock  in  favour  of  a  thing  of  frills  and 
furbelows.  None  the  less,  Lady  Wadhams,  although 
relaxing  a  shade  of  her  austerity  in  contemplating 
remote  distances,  yet  saw  fit  to  give  most  of  her  at- 
tention and  all  of  her  talk  to  Jack. 

There  was  reason  for  this,  too,  Day  felt,  as  she 
proudly  watched  this  chosen  friend  of  hers,  for  Jack 
talked  well,  that  night,  and  looked  his  very  best. 
His  full,  dark  wig  had  chanced  to  be  the  colour  of 
his  hair;  it  brought  out  all  the  best  of  his  com- 
plexion, while  its  drooping  lovelocks  hid  the  scar 
which  only  strangers  ever  counted  ugly.  His  dark 
red  court  costume  fitted  him  well  and,  showing  to 
their  full  his  wide  shoulders  and  erect  and  soldierly 
carriage,  it  added  tenfold  to  his  distinction  and  his 
dignity.  Never  really  handsome,  Jack  Blanchard 
yet  came  near  to  it,  that  night;  and,  excited  by  the 
afternoon's  success,  he  talked  far  more  than  was  his 
wont  with  strangers,  yet  with  the  same  frank  sim- 
plicity which  had  first  won  the  love  of  Rob  Argyle. 

Rob  watched  him,  too,  exchanging  now  and  then 
a  glance  with  Sidney,  or  a  smile  with  Day,  when 
Jack  had  scored  a  point  of  argument  successfully, 
or  when  both  voice  and  eyes  took  on  the  quiet  kind- 
liness they  all  loved  best  of  all  his  moods.  It  was 
plain  that  Lady  Wadhams  felt  his  charm.  She  re- 


140  JANET  AT  ODDS 

called  her  gaze  from  distance  and  turned  it  full  on 
Jack,  without  the  slightest  consciousness  of  the  con- 
trast between  her  inexpressive  countenance  and  that 
of  Jack,  so  strong  and  quiet  in  its  manliness.  At 
last,  leaning  her  plump  elbows  on  the  table,  she 
faced  him  even  more  directly. 

"  Were  you  in  Ottawa,  last  winter,  Mr.  Blan- 
chard  ?  "  she  asked. 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  I  was  in  New  York." 

"  Really,  I  thought  I  might  have  met  you  there 
at  Government  House.  In  New  -York  ?  Where  were 
you  before  that  ?  " 

Jack  smiled  a  little,  as  if  to  himself ;  but  he  made 
no  pause,  not  even  one  long  enough  to  add  emphasis 
to  the  little  intake  of  the  breath,  which  ran  around 
the  table.  He  answered  with  unruffled  quiet,  albeit 
very  distinctly,  — 

"  Before  that,  Lady  Wadhams,  I  was  conductor 
of  a  Pullman  sleeping-car." 

All  around  the  table,  the  breath  went  out  again, 
audible  now  by  reason  of  the  pause  which  followed 
Jack's  words.  Lady  Wadhams  took  her  elbows  from 
the  table,  and  fixed  her  eyes  upon  limitless  distance. 
The  pause  lengthened.  Mrs.  Argyle,  for  once,  lacked 
the  right  word  to  say;  and  the  young  people,  one 
and  all,  were  too  much  interested  in  the  little  scene  to 
wish  to  hurry  it  towards  its  end.  The  pause  length- 
ened more  and  more,  until  it  came  to  a  point  where 
Lady  Wadhams  alone  could  be  the  one  to  break  it. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  141 

And  break  it  she  did.  Some  germ  of  inherent 
niceness  in  her,  not  yet  entirely  overgrown  with 
snobbery,  made  her  repent  it  that  she  had  created 
something  which  seemed  to  her  a  wholly  impossible 
situation.  She  recalled  her  gaze  from  distance  and 
turned  it  again  to  Jack. 

"  How  interestin' !  "  she  said,  with  a  heavy  sort 
of  enthusiasm.  "  Some  day,  you  must  be  tellin'  me 
all  your  adventures.  I  've  always  wanted  to  meet 
a  really  self-made  man."  And,  rising  from  the 
table,  she  pressed  her  hand  into  Jack's  arm  with 
ostentatious  friendliness. 

Jack  saw  her  to  the  door,  closed  the  door  behind 
her.  He  was  but  just  in  time,  for  Paul,  by  reason 
of  his  past  acquaintance,  was  once  more  summing 
up  the  situation. 

"  How  nice !  "  he  said.  "  And  her  husband  won 
his  title  from  his  millions,  and  he  won  his  millions 
from  the  beef  he  packed  out  to  the  Boer  war.  It 's 
a  grand  thing,  Jack,  to  be  a  British  nobleman." 

"  Perhaps  Jack  spells  his  in  two  words,  Paul," 
his  cousin  reminded  him,  too  low  for  Jack  to  hear. 


CHAPTEK   ELEVEN 

NEXT  day,  the  Prince  of  Wales  came;  and, 
of  all  the  household,  it  was  Mary  Browne 
who  -  showed  the  most  enthusiasm  in  sallying  forth 
to  meet  him. 

"  I  never  saw  a  prince  in  all  my  life,  and  my 
grandfather  was  a  British  subject/'  she  averred. 
"  No,  Miss  Janet  dear ;  I  thank  you  kindly  for 
the  offer  of  your  bedroom  window ;  but  I  think  I  '11 
be  going  out  to  meet  him  when  he  lands." 

And  Janet  applauded  her  decision.  She  even 
went  to  the  length  of  ordering  luncheon  served  a 
full  hour  early,  so  that  Mary  Browne  might  have 
leisure  to  don  her  festival  array.  Janet  had  always 
been  a  loyal  friend  to  Mary  Browne;  but,  in  the 
past -two  days,  her  loyalty  had  taken  on  a  new  con- 
sideration. It  was  no  small  undertaking  to  keep 
one's  temper  under  strict  control,  while  catering  to 
the  whims  of  Lady  Wadhams;  but  Lady  Wadhams 
herself  was  as  nothing,  in  comparison  with  the  poodle. 
As  the  hours  and  the  meals  had  gone  by,  it  had 
transpired  that  the  poodle  was  a  fanatic  epicure, 
and  far  more  critical,  even,  than  was  his  mistress. 
However,  this  might  have  been  by  reason  of  his  longer 
pedigree  and  consequent  longer  period  of  dainty 
living.  On  the  first  morning  of  his  Quebec  sojourn, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  143 

Mary  Browne  had  made  the  supreme  mistake  of 
offering  him  a  breakfast  of  broken  bits  of  meat  and 
bread  served  on  a  new  tin  plate.  The  poodle  sniffed, 
backed  off  to  scowl  at  Mary  Browne,  then  lifted  up 
his  voice  in  querulous  lamentation.  His  mistress, 
pushing  the  tin  plate  aside  with  the  tip  of  her  plump 
foot,  interpreted  his  remonstrances  as  an  explana- 
tion that  his  customary  breakfast  was  a  bowl  of 
chicken  broth  and  a  slice  of  fresh  and  crispy  buttered 
toast.  Mary  Browne,  with  apparent  meekness,  had 
bowed  to  the  inevitable.  Yet,  after  all,  she  had  been 
engaged  to  cook  for  humans,  not  for  canines. 

Luncheon  served  and  eaten,  Janet  descended  on 
the  kitchen,  sent  Mary  Browne  to  her  room  and, 
with  the  help  of  Elsie,  proceeded  to  wash  up  the 
dishes.  Mary  Browne  had  remonstrated;  but,  in 
the  end,  she  had  yielded  and  gone  creaking  up  the 
stairs.  Half  an  hour  later,  she  had  come  creaking 
down  again,  portly  and  prosperous-looking  in  her 
trim  black  gown  and  feathered  hat;  and  her  inces- 
sant smile  had  widened  almost  to  her  ears  at  the 
chorus  of  farewells  which  came  from  the  front  win- 
dows, as  she  turned  down  the  sunny  street.  Ten 
minutes  later,  Paul  came  sauntering  into  the  kitchen. 

"  'Most  ready  ?  "  he  queried. 

Janet  shook  her  head. 

"  Dozens  more  cups,  the  knives  to  clean,  and  all 
the  puppy's  dishes,"  she  made  answer. 

"  Confound  the  puppy !  I  hate  a  dog  no  bigger 
than  a  skeeter,  with  the  manners  of  a  royal  duke. 


144  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Let  the  knives  go,  and  feed  the  poodle  out  of  a  tin 
can,"  he  advised  her. 

"  No  use.  The  creature  must  have  his  Minton, 
no  matter  what  the  rest  of  you  get.  Are  the  others 
ready  to  start  ?  " 

"  Sidney  has  put  the  seventh  pin  into  her  best 
hat,  and  now  she  is  fitting  on  some  new  gloves. 
Think  what  it  is  to  he  a  prince ! "  Paul  added 
pensively. 

Janet  disdained  the  addition. 

"  Tell  them  to  go  on,"  she  ordered.  "  I  really 
must  finish  here,  and  I  '11  find  you,  down  below." 

"  Shame  to  leave  you !  " 

"  No  help  for  it,"  she  answered,  with  what  phi- 
losophy she  could.  "  It  was  Mary  Browne's  turn ; 
she  deserves  an  outing  now  and  then.  It 's  all 
right,  really,  and  I  will  overtake  you.  Please  do 
go  on." 

Paul  nodded,  and,  his  fists  still  in  his  pockets, 
departed  in  the  direction  of  the  hall  where  the  others 
stood  chattering  and  settling  their  hats  and  gloves, 
while  they  waited  for  Janet. 

"  Go  ahead,  all  of  you,"  was  his  version  of  the 
message  with  which  he  had  been  burdened.  "  I  '11 
wait  for  Janet,  and  bring  her  along  after  you  in  a 
few  minutes."  That  done,  he  returned  to  the  kitchen 
and  seated  himself  astride  a  corner  of  the  table,  there 
to  await  the  leisurely  progress  of  events. 

"  Now  and  then  a  fellow  gets  tired  of  being  in 
a  bunch.  I  thought  I  'd  rather  take  it  calmly,  alone 


JANET  AT  ODDS  145 

with  you,"  he  offered  explanation.  "  What 's  turned 
all  the  soldiers  out  into  Louis  Street  ?  " 

Janet,  careless  of  her  hands,  attacked  the  knives, 
and  fell  to  scouring  them  in  energetic  haste. 

"  They  're  lining  the  streets  to  the  wharf,  I  sup- 
pose," she  said,  above  the  clatter.  "  They  gener- 
ally do." 

"  I  should  say  they  were  lining  them,  with  a  ven- 
geance. There  's  a  string  of  red  coats  squatting  on 
each  curb  from  Citadel  Hill  down  as  far  as  you  can 
see.  The  street  looks  like  a  tomato  patch  in  a  sunny 
garden.  It  must  be  ninety-nine  out  there,  and 
there  's  a  good  two  hours  to  wait.  As  I  observed 
before,  it  must  be  a  grand  thing  to  be  a  prince," 
Paul  added  meditatively. 

He  said  it  once  again,  an  hour  later;  but  the 
meditative  quality  was  all  gone  from  his  alert  young 
voice,  and  his  gray  eyes  were  gleaming  with  the 
excitement  of  the  scene.  His  present  position  was 
far  less  comfortable  than  had  been  his  seat  astride 
the  corner  of  the  table.  Up  on  top  of  the  highest 
roof  in  Lower  Town,  a  roof  covered  with  tin  that 
matched  the  heat  of  the  blazing  July  sun  exactly 
above  their  heads,  shadeless,  breezeless,  he  and  Janet 
were  sitting  side  by  side,  awaiting  the  coming  of  the 
royal  fleet.  Strange  to  say,  however,  they  were  not 
uncomfortable ;  they  were  entirely  too  content  for 
that.  For  the  time  being,  their  years  had  dropped 
from  them,  and  they  were  a  pair  of  merry,  carefree 
youngsters,  as  they  sat  there  on  the  scorching  roof, 

10 


146  JANET  AT  ODDS 

their  backs  against  a  chimney  and  their  toes  stuck 
out  before  them,  stiff  and  straight. 

"  Seems  rather  like  old  times,  Janet,"  Paul  had 
commented,  as  he  had  flung  himself  down  beside 
her  with  a  careless  bounce  which  set  the  tin  to  clat- 
tering beneath  his  weight. 

There  were  no  reservations  in  Janet's  answering 
smile. 

"  Exactly,"  she  made  contented  reply.  Then,  with 
a  glance  at  the  gay  scene  around  them,  she  added, 
"  Only,  you  know,  with  a  difference." 

But  Paul  protested. 

"No  difference  at  all,"  he  told  her.  "There's 
us,  and  there 's  a  jolly  big  powwow.  It  always 
used  to  happen  so." 

In  truth,  there  was,  to  use  Paul's  phrase,  a  jolly 
big  powwow  going  on  around  them.  It  is  not  every 
day  that  the  royal  heir  comes  to  his  colony's  shores ; 
and,  to  all  appearing,  now  that  he  was  coming,  the 
whole  colony  had  turned  out  to  do  him  honour. 
Above  their  heads,  the  entire  cliff  edge  was  black 
with  people,  huddled  in  an  ever-thickening  swarm 
which  stretched  from  the  Grand  Battery  clear  to  the 
top  of  the  green  glacis  below  the  King's  Bastion,  a 
long  dark  line  against  a  background  of  gay  and  flut- 
tering bunting.  Around  them,  on  other,  lower  roofs, 
were  little  knots  of  men  and  women,  their  gay  summer 
costumes  forming  curious  contrast  with  their  unlovely 
quarters.  Below,  the  street  was  lined  with  soldiery, 
shoulder  to  shoulder,  ready  to  present  arms  at  the 


JANET  AT  ODDS  147 

royal  coming.  Every  now  and  then  the  cobbles 
clattered  beneath  the  hoofs  of  a  mounted  regiment, 
or  the  high  walls  on  either  side  echoed  the  gay  notes 
of  a  band,  leading  other  regiments  down  to  take 
position  near  the  landing;  and  to  Janet,  listening, 
it  seemed  that  the  bands  played  always  Canada,  and 
then  God  Save  the  King.  Last  of  all,  from  Moun- 
tain Hill  there  came  a  clatter  and  a  cheering.  The 
next  instant,  into  the  street  below  there  swept  a 
train  of  scarlet  coats,  of  prancing,  kicking  horses, 
of  stalwart,  strong-faced  men.  It  was  the  North- 
west Mounted  Police,  the  Royal  Police  almost  as 
famous  in  fiction  as  in  fact;  and  they  were  riding 
down  to  guard  the  royal  landing,  for  the  hour  of  the 
arrival  had  now  come. 

"  Look !  "  Janet's  hand  trembled  a  little,  as  it 
pointed  down  the  river  beyond  the  grim  gray  fleet 
backed  by  a  single  white  and  yellow  ship,  beyond 
the  bevy  of  small  craft,  down  to  the  point  where 
Saint  Joseph  landing  juts  out  to  meet  the  Isle  of 
Orleans.  "  I  see  the  smoke.  They  '11  be  in  sight 
now,  in  a  minute." 

Then,  heedless  of  the  crowd  about  her,  heedless 
of  Paul  at  her  side,  she  let  her  hand  fall  into  her 
lap,  and  sat  there  silent,  intent,  her  eyes  gleaming, 
her  lips  slightly  parted,  while  the  faint  banners  of 
smoke  grew  nearer,  more  distinct  until,  inch  by  inch, 
there  crept  into  sight  around  the  point  the  dark  hull 
of  the  escorting  cruiser,  and,  close  behind,  the  huge 
shape  of  the  Indomitable,  ship  of  mystery,  bearing 


148  JANET  AT  ODDS 

at  her  masthead  the  yellow  and  blue  and  scarlet  of 
the  royal  standard. 

For  moments  long,  ever  since  the  first  faint  curl 
of  smoke  had  been  sighted  above  Point  Saint  Joseph, 
the  vast  crowd  had  held  itself  in  silence,  utter,  breath- 
less. Then  when,  the  point  quite  rounded,  the  great 
Indomitable  came  sweeping  towards  them,  river  and 
cliff  above  echoed  with  one  great  cry  of  welcome, 
while  the  gray  waiting  fleet  turned  to  a  tangle  of 
gay  colours,  and  the  royal  salute  of  one  and  twenty 
guns  came  crashing  down  from  the  citadel  on  high 
to  meet  the  answering  crashes  from  the  ships  of 
war  below. 

Amy  Pope,  meanwhile,  audibly  and  aloud  was 
bemoaning  the  separation  of  Paul  and  Janet  from 
their  little  party. 

"  I  know  they  're  not  as  comfortable  as  this,  in 
all  that  crowd,"  she  protested  for  the  dozenth  time, 
unconscious  of  the  fact  that  Janet  and  Paul  were 
by  now  ensconced  upon  the  topmost  point  of  the 
building  where  Mr.  Leslie's  office  had  been  of  yore, 
a  building  which  far  overtopped  its  neighbours.  "  I 
do  hope  they  can  see  what 's  happening." 

"Trust  Janet!"  Eob  said  lazily.  "She  has  a 
good  head  for  making  her  own  arrangements.  But, 
as  for  comfort  —  "  He  gazed  about  him  with  an 
expressive  smile. 

Down  in  the  lower  harbour,  opposite  the  Empress 
at  her  long  red  pier,  there  lay  the  steam  yacht  of 
a  western  railway  king.  The  king  himself,  meeting 


JANET  AT  ODDS  149 

and  recognizing  Rob  and  Mrs.  Argyle  as  they  had 
crossed  the  Ring,  that  noon,  had  carried  back  the 
whole  party  with  him  to  his  launch,  and  now  they 
were  stretched  out  in  deck  chairs  underneath  the 
flapping  awning  of  the  yacht,  consuming  iced  tea 
and  sandwiches,  while  they  waited  for  the  royal 
advent.  The  three  Argyles  and  the  Amys,  quite 
used  to  such  experiences,  took  the  whole  matter  tran- 
quilly, even  to  their  host  who,  divested  of  his  news- 
paper crown,  proved  to  be  a  genial,  jovial  gentleman. 
Little  by  little,  the  talk  grew  personal  between  them, 
until  Jack  felt  at  liberty  to  shift  his  chair  a  bit 
nearer  Sidney. 

"  Another  chapter,"  he  said  to  her  smilingly,  and 
too  low  for  their  host  to  hear. 

Instantly  her  smile  answered  to  his  own.  Where 
Jack  Blanchard  was  concerned,  Sidney  rarely  needed 
an  interpreter,  and  now  her  mind  flashed  backward 
to  the  evening,  years  before,  when  Jack  had  likened 
to  a  fairy  tale  the  strange  transitions  in  his  life. 
The  great  transition,  though,  had  been  between  the 
two  extremes.  Jack's  real  life  lay  between  them. 
His  Pullman  car  experience  had  been  no  more  his 
natural  place  than  was  the  social  circle  of  Lady 
Wadhams,  or  even  of  his  present  host.  Jack's  father 
had  been  a  gentleman  who,  from  no  fault  of  his 
own,  had  died  and  left  his  widow  penniless.  Jack's 
university  life  had  been  interrupted  by  the  Boer 
war  and  its  consequent  call  for  troops.  The  ending 
of  the  Boer  war  had  found  him  with  but  three  pos- 


150  JANET  AT  ODDS 

sessions  to  his  name:  a  D.  S.  O.,  a  plucky  nature, 
and  an  old  mother  dependent  on  his  care.  The 
Pullman  uniform  had  been  the  rest  of  the  story; 
the  rest,  but  not  the  end,  for  now  had  come  the 
sequel.  And  the  sequel,  as  Jack  well  knew,  was 
testing  him  with  its  gay  prosperity  as  no  adversity 
had  ever  done.  And  Jack  knew,  too,  within  his 
secret  heart,  that  he  could  never  have  met  that  test 
one  half  so  well,  had  he  not  been  able  to  count  upon 
the  loving  loyalty  of  Day,  the  frank  common  sense 
of  Sidney  Stayre.  He  counted  on  them  both;  but 
with  this  difference:  it  was  with  Sidney  that  he 
talked  most  often  of  the  changes  in  his  life  and 
prospects.  Now  his  words  responded  to  her  smile 
of  comprehension. 

"  This  sort  of  thing  is  really  very  upsettin',  as 
her  Ladyship  would  say.  I  think  I  have  a  natural 
appetite  for  the  fleshpots,  Sidney." 

"  Have  n't  we  all  ?  "  she  asked  him. 

"  More  than  most  of  you,  I  mean.  It 's  so  easy 
to  slide  along  a  cushioned  groove ;  but  I  'm  not  so 
sure  it 's  good  for  me." 

"  Meaning  ?  "  But  her  eyes  were  not  at  all  in 
harmony  with  the  brevity  of  her  question. 

His  answer  was  as  brief. 

"  That,  once  in  a  while,  I  feel  as  if  I  had  been 
swept  off  my  feet  and  landed  in  a  satin-covered  bed." 

She  laughed  outright  at  his  metaphor. 

"  But  the  bed  is  comfortable,"  she  assured  him 
gayly. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  151 

Thoughtfully  he  continued  his  metaphor. 

"  Yes.  Still,  a  fellow  can  lose  the  use  of  his  legs, 
if  he  stops  in  bed  too  long." 

Something  in  the  accent  caught  Sidney's  half- 
idle  attention.  There  was  anxiety  in  it,  and  some- 
thing akin  to  self-distrust.  She  turned  to  him 
directly,  a  world  of  liking  and  of  cordial  reassur- 
ance in  her  eyes. 

"  You  won't,"  she  told  him  flatly.  "  It  'a  not  in 
you.  In  fact,  you  '11  prevent  that  by  the  way  you  're 
lying  and  kicking  now.  .What 's  the  matter,  Jack  ? 
Out  with  it !  " 

For  a  moment,  he  sat  facing  her  in  silence,  study- 
ing her  intently  as  she  waited  there,  upright  in  her 
lounging  chair,  her  strong,  bright  face  intent  upon 
his  mood,  her  brown  hair  ruffled  by  the  breeze  which 
softly  stirred  her  pale  rough  pongee  frock.  Sidney 
was  good  to  look  at,  he  told  himself,  but  better  still 
to  know.  No  mere  outward  beauty,  however  exqui- 
site and  dainty,  could  ever  count  for  much,  when 
weighed  against  those  downright,  honest  eyes  of  hers 
that  looked  straight  towards  the  heart  of  all  things, 
himself  included.'  The  moment  was  long  and  full 
of  thoughtfulness ;  but  at  length  he  answered,  and 
his  answer  took  her  by  surprise. 

"  Moral  indigestion,"  he  told  her  crisply. 

She  frowned,  but  not  at  him. 

"  Jack,"  she  said ;  "  it 's  that  horrid  woman. 
She  's  going  on  your  nerves." 

He  shook  his  head. 


152  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  I  'm  not  a  baby,  Sidney.  Men  are  n't  supposed 
to  have  such  things  as  nerves.  Still  —  " 

"  Still,  she  was  very  horrid,"  Sidney  supplemented. 

This  time,  Jack  laughed,  and  his  laugh  was  re- 
freshingly normal,  especially  after  his  late  mood  of 
introspection. 

"  Really,  Sidney,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  I  rather 
liked  the  fun  of  the  whole  thing,"  he  reassured  her, 
and  she  could  not  doubt  the  sincerity  of  voice  or 
words.  "  I  've  never  been  able  to  be  ashamed  of 
my  Pullman  epoch;  really,  there  was  nothing  espe- 
cially disgraceful  about  it,  except  one  half-white 
porter  who  stole  my  best  shoes.  But  I  did  enjoy 
firing  it  at  Lady  Wadhams,  for  I  knew  the  shock 
would  bowl  her  over  utterly.  What 's  more,  it  did." 
He  paused  to  laugh  boyishly  at  the  memory.  "  Still, 
I  must  say,"  he  added ;  "  the  old  lady  picked  her- 
self up  sooner  than  I  should  have  given  her  credit 
for  being  able  to  do." 

For  a  little  time,  Sidney  shared  his  mirth.  Then, 
leaning  back  in  her  chair,  she  fell  to  studying  him 
intently. 

"  Then  what  is  it  really,  Jack  ?  "  she  asked  him. 

From  the  distant  reaches  of  the  river  whence  so 
soon  the  ship  of  mystery  was  to  appear,  he  recalled 
his  gaze  and  fixed  it  on  her  face. 

"  I  suspect  it 's  too  long  a  vacation,  Sidney,"  he 
answered  then.  "  I  'm  used  to  working.  I  'm  hap- 
piest when  I  'm  busy ;  that  is,  I  get  the  soundest 
sort  of  happiness.  It 's  good  fun,  this  drifting  on 


JANET  AT  ODDS  153 

from  day  to  day,  doing  nothing  but  live  in  a  per- 
petual sort  of  party ;  but  it  is  n't  good  for  me.  I 
was  n't  born  to  it,  as  the  Argyles  are ;  I  need  the 
other  thing  to  keep  me  steady.  It 's  like  taking  a 
fellow  off  a  meat  diet  and  feeding  him  on  nothing 
but  ice  cream.  The  ice  cream  is  sweet  and  cool  and 
good ;  but  it  does  n't  make  much  muscle.  Some  day 
or  other,  I  shall  need  my  muscle.  Some  day,  even, 
I  may  get  put  back  into  the  old  groove,  and  find  I  'm 
not  large  enough  to  fill  it.  If  one  softens,  one  has 
a  tendency  to  shrink ;  it  would  be  beastly  not  to  fill 
up  one's  last-year  shoes.  Besides,  whatever  comes, 
I  'm  not  likely  to  go  on  for  ever,  a  tail  to  the  Argyle 
kite." 

Once  more  Sidney  sat  up  to  face  him.  This  mood 
of  Jack's  was  new  to  her ;  it  antagonized  her  slightly, 
worried  her  much  more. 

"  Jack,"  she  questioned  sharply ;  "  have  you  been 
misunderstanding  Hob,  or  Day  ?  " 

His  answer  reassured  her. 

"  No,  Sidney.  One  never  misunderstands  one's 
very  dearest  friends." 

"  Then  what  is  the  matter  ?"  she  queried  fearlessly. 

"  What  I  say.  They  make  my  life  too  easy  for 
me.  It 's  bound  not  to  last." 

"  Do  you  doubt  their  loyalty  ?  "  she  asked  a  little 
shortly.  Then,  seeing  his  colour  come,  she  straight- 
way repented  of  her  shortness.  "  Jack,"  she  said ; 
"  you  're  right.  You  have  been  lazy  too  long. 
You  're  thinking  about  yourself  and  growing  mor- 


154  JANET  AT  ODDS 

bid ;  you  need  to  wake  up  and  get  busy.  About  the 
Argyles:  they  do  make  life  easy  for  you,  for  me, 
for  us  all.  They  do  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  They 
can,  and  they  don't  think  anything  about  it.  But 
you  don't  see  the  other  side  of  it,  the  things  you  do 
for  them." 

"  What  things  ?  "  he  interrupted. 

She  smiled  a  little,  as  she  lifted  her  eyes  to 
his. 

"  The  way  you  keep  all  sorts  of  little  worries  away 
from  Mr.  Argyle ;  the  way  you  spare  him  work  and 
care  and  friction  with  the  'men  who  try  to  waste  his 
time.  And  Rob.  He  's  very  lame ;  there  's  no  use 
trying  to  deny  it,  nor,"  her  voice  dropped  to  a  mur- 
mur ;  "  nor  that  he  always  will  be.  In  a  way,  it 
holds  him  out  of  man  things;  but  he  always  has 
you  in  reach  to  keep  him  happy  and  in  touch  with 
mannish  ways.  That  alone  should  count  for  every- 
thing. From  what  Rob  has  said  to  me,  I  know  he 
feels  he  owes  you  what  he  never,  never  can  make 
even.  And  with  Day  —  Jack,  do  you  know  what 
it  means  to  us  girls  to  have  a  friend  like  you,  older, 
almost  like  a  brother,  but  something  else  besides  ? 
I  found  it  out,  when  I  had  Wade." 

"Only  from  Wade,  Sidney?" 

Her  eyes  met  his;  but  her  reply  was  lost  in  the 
sudden  clamour  which  rose  around  them,  as  the 
yacht's  colours  went  whizzing  to  the  masthead.  The 
Indomitable  was  in  sight,  a  ship  of  mystery  no 
longer. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  155 

And,  all  this  time,  Mary  Browne  was  having  ad- 
ventures on  her  own  account,  and,  what  is  more, 
enjoying  them  immensely. 

From  the  hour  of  her  entering  Quebec,  she  had 
confessed  to  Elsie  that  she  had  felt  herself  on  for- 
eign soil,  a  tourist  in  a  stranger  country  where  the 
daily  routine  was  a  mere  show  enacted  for  her  bene- 
fit. To-day,  routine  had  ceased  entirely,  to  be  re- 
placed by  a  gorgeous  bedlam  of  colour  and  noise  and 
swirling  human  crowds.  And  Mary  Browne,  of  set 
purpose  and  smiling  broadly,  made  her  way  into  the 
thickest  of  the  bedlam,  revelling  in  the  feeling  that 
she  was  a  part  of  the  packed,  ecstatic  life  around 
her.  Had  not  a  stern  sense  of  decorum  prohibited, 
she  would  have  waved  a  union  jack,  or  beaten  on  a 
drum.  That  forbidden,  she  elbowed  her  way  as  close 
as  possible  to  the  man  who  did  it. 

The  Prince  was  late  about  arriving,  a  good  two 
hours  behind  his  printed  schedule.  Mary  Browne 
passed  the  time  industriously  threading  the  city 
streets  to  see  the  final  decorations,  standing  on  divers 
corners  to  watch  divers  passing  soldiers,  and  nearly 
giving  herself  an  apoplexy  by  running  after  a  score 
or  more  of  pipers  that  served  as  band  for  one  of 
the  visiting  Highland  regiments.  At  last,  warned 
by  the  clattering  hoofs  of  the  Mounted  Police  that 
the  royal  advent  was  at  hand,  she  rushed  down 
Mountain  Hill  behind  them  at  a  breakneck  pace 
which  roused  the  plaudits  of  the  watching  crowd, 
turned  a  corner  or  two,  and  came  out  upon  the 


156  JANET  AT  ODDS 

water  front  just  in  season  to  see  the  royal  launch 
approach  the  shore. 

People,  standing  near  her,  wondered  who  could  be 
the  buxom,  smiling  personage  who  beat  her  palms 
together  in  such  lusty  welcome;  but  Mary  Browne, 
heedless  of  their  glances,  watched  the  show  to  its 
formal  finish.  Then,  the  show  ended  and  the  Prince 
upon  colonial  soil,  her  mind  rushed  swiftly  forward 
to  her  waiting  pots  and  kettles,  and  she  glanced  down 
at  her  dangling,  moon-faced  watch. 

"  Saints  be  good  to  us !  It 's  past  four  o'clock, 
and  the  soup  not  started !  "  she  ejaculated,  more  than 
half  aloud.  "  I  '11  take  a  look  at  him,  as  he  's  pass- 
ing, and  then  I  must  just  leg  it  home  as  fast  as 
ever  I  can  trot." 

Accordingly,  she  edged  and  elbowed  her  way  land- 
ward to  the  forefront  of  the  crowd,  which  she  reached 
just  in  time  to  take  to  herself  and  answer  one  of  the 
random  salutations  of  the  Prince. 

"  For  all  the  world  like  that  nice  little  clerk  at 
Holden's  ribbon  counter,  and  not  a  bit  more  stiff !  " 
was  her  verdict.  "  Well,  I  've  seen  him  and  he 's 
seen  me,  so  now  for  home." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  with  all  her  cus- 
tomary promptness,  she  turned  to  follow  along  be- 
side the  royal  procession,  her  eyes  and  mind  too 
intent  upon  the  gorgeous  spectacle  to  pay  much  heed 
to  the  tricky  nature  of  the  sidewalks,  or  their  ability 
to  support  her  weight.  She  took  a  dozen  steps  in 
safety,  thirteen,  fourteen  j  then  there  came  a  crash 


JANET  AT  ODDS  157 

of  decayed  boarding.  An  instant  later,  Mary  Browne 
felt  a  second  crash,  not  of  the  boarding  now,  but 
of  something  inside  her  ankle ;  and,  faint  with  pain, 
she  went  pitching  forward  and  sidewise,  straight  upon 
the  brief  red  coat-tails  of  one  of  the  Northwest  Police 
who  had  that  instant  halted  by  her  side. 


CHAPTER   TWELVE 

"  T  T  'S  only  his  nonsense,  Miss  Janet  dear,  to  get 
J,  himself  a  patient,"  Mary  Browne  averred,  next 
morning.  "  For  why  should  I  stay  in  bed,  when 
I  'm  as  well  able  as  ever  to  sit  with  my  foot  in  the 
chair,  giving  orders  ?  Get  me  a  girl  that  understands 
English  and  has  a  pair  of  feet,  and  I  '11  do  the  rest 
of  it  with  my  head." 

Girls,  however,  understanding  English  or  other- 
wise, were  not  to  be  found  so  easily  as  all  that.  Janet 
had  wellnigh  worn  out  the  telephone  wire  and  com- 
pletely worn  out  her  patience,  by  the  time  she  made 
the  discovery  that  a  helper  for  Mary  Browne  must 
come  from  inside  the  household,  not  from  out.  It 
was  Mrs.  Argyle  who  first  put  the  discovery  into  so 
many  words,  Mrs.  Argyle,  too,  who  called  a  council 
of  war,  and  divided  up  the  entire  population  of  the 
house,  Mrs.  Blanchard  and  the  retinue  of  Lady 
Wadhams  alone  excepted,  into  a  series  of  watches 
which  were  detailed  to  do  the  bidding  of  Mary 
Browne  whose  orders  were  interspersed  with  lamen- 
tations over  her  incapacity. 

"  It 's  me  that  was  a  wool-gathering,  staring  idiot, 
and  brought  it  on  myself  entirely,"  she  said  dras- 
tically. "  If  I  was  you,  Miss  Janet  dear,  I  'd  pack 
me  off  to  the  hospital.  To  think  of  a  lady  with  a 


JANET  AT  ODDS  159 

pair  of  hands  like  Mrs.  Argyle  mixing  up  the  cakes 
for  tea !  " 

Janet  had  betaken  herself  to  the  kitchen  bright 
and  early,  that  morning,  her  heart  in  her  boots  and 
her  mind  set  upon  planning  breakfast.  To  her  ex- 
treme surprise,  she  had  found  Mary  Browne  en- 
sconced in  a  chair  beside  the  stove,  her  lame  foot 
upon  another  chair,  and  industriously  beating 
muffins. 

"  Mary  Browne !  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 
she  exclaimed. 

Mary  Browne's  smile  was  wide  enough  to  cover 
the  traces  of  a  sleepless  night. 

"  I  thought  you  'd  like  some  corn  muffins,  Miss 
Janet.  The  poodle  eats  'em,  too." 

"  But  the  doctor  said  —  " 

Mary  Browne's  answer  has  already  been  recorded. 

"  How  did  you  get  here,  anyway  ? "  Janet  de- 
manded, when  her  objections  had  been  set  forth  at 
length. 

Mary  Browne's  reply  was  terse. 

"  Hitched,"  she  answered. 

"  Bravissimo ! "  Rob's  voice  sounded  from  the 
doorway.  "  I  '11  try  it,  myself,  next  time  I  'm  laid 
up." 

"Rob!  "  Janet  spun  about  to  face  him.  "  What 
are  you  doing  down  here  at  this  unholy  hour  ?  " 

Rob,  smiling  and  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  came 
sauntering  across  the  floor. 

"  I  came  to  cook  the  breakfast,  leastwise  the  best 


160  JANET  AT  ODDS 

part  of  it.  I  have  n't  that  confidence  in  your  powers, 
Janet,  that  leads  me  to  leave  it  all  to  you.  Besides, 
it 's  not  the  first  time  we  've  put  it  through  together. 
How  goes  it,  Mary  ?  Kather  bad  ?  " 

"  It  might  be  worse,"  she  told  him  stoutly. 

He  nodded,  as  if  in  admiration  of  her  courage. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  briefly ;  "  heaps.  You  can  be 
mended,  and  that 's  more  than  all  of  us  can  say." 
Then  his  accent  changed.  "  Seems  to  me  you  Ve 
slugged  those  muffins  about  long  enough.  Give  them 
to  me,  and  I  '11  put  them  in  the  pan."  And,  with 
much  hilarity  and  an  occasional  mischance,  the 
breakfast  preparations  went  their  way. 

Janet  left  the  breakfast  things  to  Elsie,  and  de- 
parted to  the  telephone.  Mrs.  Argyle,  reading  her 
morning  letters  in  the  next  room,  could  not  well  keep 
herself  from  overhearing  the  one-sided  talk,  nor  yet 
the  little  sigh  with  which  Janet  hung  up  the  re- 
ceiver. Contrary  to  the  habit  of  most  women  in  her 
social  set,  Mrs.  Argyle  had  taken  pains  to  teach  her- 
self to  do  all  that  concerned  a  house,  and  now  she 
resolved  to  put  her  lessons  into  use.  The  council 
of  war  that  followed,  was  brief,  and  Mrs.  Argyle's 
final  words  summed  up  its  decisions. 

"  Then,  as  I  say,  we  all  will  take  a  hand,  till 
Mary  is  about  again.  Day,  you  and  Amy  Browne 
are  n't  worth  a  fig  in  the  kitchen,  so  you  'd  best 
divide  Elsie's  work  upstairs,  and  leave  her  for  the 
dining-room  and  for  the  cook's  assistant.  Amy  Pope 
can  do  the  rest  of  the  housemaid  work;  and  Sidney 


JANET  AT  ODDS  161 


and    Irene    and    Janet   and   I    can    get    on    in    the 
kitchen." 

"  What  about  me  ? "  Kob  queried  meekly. 

"  You  are  like  Day,  too  ornamental  to  be  of  much 
use,"  Amy  Browne  assured  him  bluntly,  while  her 
approving  eyes,  sweeping  him  from  head  to  heel, 
belied  her  tone. 

"  Much  I  am !     Ask  Janet,"  he  bade  her. 

"  I  can't  get  on  without  you,"  Janet  responded. 
"  Come  along  and  peel  some  'taties ;  that  is,  if 
you  Ve  not  forgotten  how,  in  the  last  five  years." 

"  Well,  I  like  —  "  Paul  was  beginning ;  but  Janet 
cut  him  off. 

"  So  do  I.     Eob  and  I  have  cooked  before." 

"  Likewise  squabbled,"  Rob  reminded  her. 

She  made  a  little  grimace  of  disgust. 

"  Don't  talk  about  that  horrid  day.  It  was  a 
storm,  in  every  sense  of  the  word;  but  we  have 
learned  to  behave  better  now.  What  a  termagant  I 
was!" 

"As  you  say,  those  days  are  over,"  Rob  assured 
her  cheerfully.  "  What  were  you  asking,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Where  my  usefulness  comes  in." 

"  Keeping  Lady  Wadhams  in  good  temper,"  Day 
replied  unhesitatingly. 

He  laughed.  Then  he  shook  his  head,  and  dropped 
his  voice  a  little. 

"  No  use.  My  star  has  set,"  he  told  her,  while 
the  talk  sprang  up  around  them ;  "  or,  rather,  it 
has  turned  into  a  bright  brass  button." 

11 


162  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Jack !  "  She  gave  him  one  keen,  searching 
glance.  "  What  utter  nonsense !  " 

By  the  next  morning,  Mrs.  Argyle  had  assumed 
full  command. 

"  I  shall  go  on  duty,  this  morning,"  she  announced. 
"  If  I  chaperon  you  children,  to-night,  that  is  really 
all  I  care  to  go  out;  and,  after  so  much  pageantry, 
Mary  Browne  and  a  mixing-bowl  will  be  a  real  re- 
lief. Run  along  then,  all  you  children,  and  put 
your  rooms  in  order,  for  you  are  due  at  the  Plains 
in  just  an  hour."  And,  despite  the  chorus  of  re- 
monstrance, she  had  her  way. 

Quite  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  influence  of  Gladys 
Horth  had  procured  for  all  of  Janet's  friends  cards 
for  the  event  of  any  hour  which  happened  to  be 
transpiring.  The  event  of  that  night  was  one  of  the 
grandest  of  the  state  functions,  and  the  city  was  all 
agog  over  the  destinations  of  the  huge  square  cards 
of  invitation.  Day  alone  had  shown  herself  indif- 
ferent. There  was  to  be  dancing,  and  Day,  dancing, 
was  as  light  and  tireless  as  a  bit  of  thistledown ;  yet 
now  and  then  she  claimed  that  dancing  bored  her, 
and  demanded  to  be  left  at  home.  Rob,  shrewd  ob- 
server of  his  sister's  moods,  had  long  since  learned 
that  such  demands  never  arose  when  he  was  out 
of  reach,  or  otherwise  occupied.  However,  being 
healthy  and  moderately  unselfish,  he  could  not  see 
any  real  reason  why,  merely  because  his  own  danc- 
ing days  had  ended  early  in  his  lifetime,  Day's 
should  be  intermittent.  Accordingly,  he  had  taken 


JANET  AT  ODDS  163 


her  in  hand,  argued  with  her,  called  Jack  to  help 
him  in  his  argument,  and  then,  himself,  had  tele- 
phoned to  Gladys  Horth  that  Day,  thank  you,  would 
be  very  glad  to  get  a  card,  after  all.  And  the  card 
came. 

None  the  less,  when  it  approached  the  time  to 
begin  dressing,  Day  balked  again.  Her  face  was 
very  grave  and  penitent,  as  she  sought  out  Jack  in 
the  library  where  he  sat  buried  in  the  evening 
paper. 

"  Jack,"  she  asked  him,  as  she  halted  beside  his 
chair ;  "  shall  you  be  very  cross  at  me,  if  I  don't  go, 
to-night,  after  all  ?  " 

There  was  no  hint  of  crossness  in  his  smile,  as 
he  looked  up  at  her.  Nevertheless,  he  made  his 
protest,  as  in  duty  bound  by  his  promise  to  Rob. 

"  I  really  think  he  does  n't  mind  our  leaving  him, 
Day." 

"  Not  mind  it,  really.  Still,  it  is  very  stupid  for 
him  to  be  left  alone.  Besides,  I  'd  rather  —  "  She 
hesitated,  midway  between  her  expressed  loyalty  to 
Rob,  and  the  fear  of  wounding  this  other  friend 
who  stood  so  nearly  in  a  brother's  place. 

Again  he  looked  her  through  and  through,  with 
searching,  kindly  eyes. 

"  Day,  you  're  very  tired,"'  he  told  her  then. 

She  nodded,  while  the  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks, 
as  if  at  her  confession. 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted ;  "  I  am.  We  Ve  lived  in  a 
perpetual  tornado  of  events,  all  this  past  week,  and 


164  JANET  AT  ODDS 

to-day  has  seemed  the  finishing  touch.  I  want  to 
get  out  of  sight  and  sound  of  it  all,  for  a  while ;  not 
dance  half  the  night  in  a  hot,  crowded  room." 

Again  his  steady  gaze  met  hers.  Then,  rising, 
he  put  her  gently  into  a  deep  chair  beside  the  open 
window. 

"  You  're  quite  tired  out,"  he  said,  a  second  time. 
"  I  'm  going  to  turn  out  the  lights,  and  you  must 
stop  here  and  rest  till  time  to  go  to  bed." 

Laughing  up  at  him,  she  shut  her  hand  upon  his 
arm,  as  if  to  stay  him  from  carrying  out  his 
determination. 

"  You  dear  old  tyrant,  I  have  n't  the  least  idea 
of  stopping  here,"  she  told  him  gayly.  "  It 's  en- 
tirely too  warm  and  too  noisy.  Jack,  do  you  ever 
think  how  quiet  it  is  at  Heatherleigh  ?  But,  if  you 
truly,  truly  do  not  mind  a  bit,  I  'm  going  to  hunt 
up  Rob  and  tell  him  he  must  carry  me  off  some- 
where, where  it  is  quiet." 

"  What  should  I  mind,  Day  ?  " 

"  The  having  me  back  out  and  leave  you  to  go 
alone."  She  laughed  a  little.  "  Yes,  I  know  that 
sounds  conceited,  when  all  the  rest  are  going;  but 
you  know  you  had  promised  to  look  out  for  me." 

"  Exactly  what  I  intend  to  do.  Meanwhile, 
where 's  Rob  ?  " 

"  In  your  room,  I  think.  Do  you  mind  telling  him 
to  come  down  here  a  minute  ?  It 's  time  you  went 
up  to  array  yourself." 

"  Thank  you,  I  consider  myself  arrayed.     What 


JANET  AT  ODDS  165 

do  you  say  to  going  out  on  the  river  for  an  hour  or 
two  ?  " 

She  sat  up  and  faced  him. 

"  Jack,  you  must  n't  give  it  up.  If  you  do,  I 
shall  feel  sure  I  Ve  spoiled  your  evening.  Amy 
Browne  dances  like  a  seraph,  and  has  a  brand-new 
gown  that  she  's  longing  to  flaunt  before  your  eyes. 
Go  and  make  her  have  a  good  time,  that 's  a  dear 
old  boy.  Besides,  you  can  tell  us  all  about  it,  in 
the  morning." 

His  laugh  filled  the  room. 

"  No  use,  Day.  There  '11  be  such  a  chorus  at 
breakfast  that  I  could  n't  make  myself  heard  above 
the  rest.  Moreover,  on  my  honour,  I  hate  the  whole 
thing,  and  only  promised  to  go,  when  Hob  made 
such  a  point  of  my  looking  out  for  you.  Up  here, 
I  am  always  in  mortal  terror  of  asking  some  of  my 
former  passengers  to  dance  with  me,  and  getting 
properly  snubbed  for  my  pains." 

"  I  'd  like  to  see  them  try  it,"  Day  made  pugna- 
cious answer. 

"  Very  likely  you  may  see  it  yet,"  he  told  her 
composedly.  "  Meanwhile  —  " 

"  Meanwhile,  you  '11  go  with  Amy  Browne,"  she 
besought  him. 

"  Meanwhile,  I  go  with  you.  Unless,"  he  added 
gravely,  seeing  the  objection  in  her  eyes ;  "  you  'd 
rather  go  alone  with  Rob." 

For  a  long  moment,  Day's  eyes  rested  on  the 
alert,  soldierly  figure  halting  at  her  side,  on  the 


166  JANET  AT  ODDS 

intent  and  questioning  face.  Then  her  smile  wid- 
ened, became  full  of  mockery. 

"  Jack,  it 's  horrid  manners  to  fish  for  compli- 
ments," she  reminded  him  flatly. 

It  was  Rob  who  somehow  or  other  gained  the 
promise  of  a  launch  to  take  them  up  the  river.  In 
some  fashion  all  his  own,  Rob  always  could  accom- 
plish things  like  that.  Given  a  telephone  and  a  little 
leisure,  he  could  have  had  the  moon  for  the  asking, 
for  he  was  past  master  of  the  art  of  wheedling. 
ISTone  the  less,  it  was  Jack,  not  Rob,  who  saved  Day 
from  the  storm  of  remonstrances  that  arose  around 
her,  when  her  determination  became  known. 

"  Day  's  tired  out,  with  all  this  fuss  and  feathers. 
She  wants  to  go  off  somewhere  with  Rob,  and  rest. 
I  really  would  n't  urge  her,  for  I  think  her  mind 
is  quite  made  up."  That  was  all  he  said,  and  there 
was  no  sternness  in  his  tone.  Nevertheless,  the 
clamour  ceased.  Uniformly  quiet  and  controlled, 
Jack  Blanchard's  manner  matched  his  eyes.  Both 
of  them  could  be  a  bit  commanding  now  and  then, 
yet  their  commanding  rarely  aroused  antagonism. 

After  the  ceaseless  noise  and  glare  of  Louis  Street, 
noise  which  lasted  quite  around  the  clock,  glare  which 
only  changed  from  electricity  to  sun  and  back  again, 
the  still,  dark  river  was  a  welcome  relief  to  all  their 
nerves.  Behind  them  and  before,  the  heights  of 
Levis  and  Quebec  blazed  with  long  streamers  of 
electric  lamps,  arching  the  streets,  outlining  Laval, 
the  Chateau  and  the  Citv  Hall.  Frontenac's  statue 


JANET  AT  ODDS  167 

wore  a  dazzling  crown,  and  the  Parliament  Buildings 
were  festooned  from  tower  to  lowest  coping.  Be- 
side them,  the  war  ships  were  garlanded  with  lights, 
and  the  reflections  struck  the  water  sharply,  coating 
with  a  coppery  lustre  the  mysterious  black  depths 
that  lay  beneath.  From  the  terrace  above  their 
heads,  the  music  of  a  band  came  softly  down  to  them, 
to  be  lost  in  the  answering  crash  of  the  band  on 
board  one  of  the  French  frigates  close  at  hand ;  and 
from  somewhere,  far  across  the  city,  a  stream  of 
little  rockets  went  shooting  upward,  to  curve  over 
and  go  trailing  lazily  down  across  the  ink-black 
sky. 

Rob  stretched  himself  out  luxuriously  in  the  stern, 
his  head  in  Day's  lap,  his  heels  upon  the  rail. 

"  By  Jove,  Day,  what  a  genius  you  were  to  think 
up  this  thing !  "  he  said  contentedly,  as  the  launch, 
leaving  the  fleet  behind,  went  sliding  up  the  dark, 
still  river.  "  I  had  no  idea  how  sick  I  was  of  all 
that  bedlam,  till  I  got  away  from  it." 

Day  fell  to  patting  and  stroking  his  yellow  hair, 
as  was  her  wont  in  times  like  this. 

"  It 's  all  fun,  Rob,  every  bit  of  it,"  she  assented ; 
"  only,  with  the  heat  and  the  crowd  and  Lady  Wad- 
hams,  there  's  rather  too  much  of  it.  Besides,  if 
we  're  to  do  the  gala  pageant,  to-morrow,  the  little 
change  won't  hurt  us." 

Rob  stretched  himself  a  little  straighter. 

"  Not  me,  sure.  I  was  expecting  to  mind  my 
book  alone  at  home,  and  this  is  whole  lots  better." 


168  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Jack  sighed  heavily. 

"  I  was  expecting,"  he  remarked,  with  a  strong 
accent  on  the  pronoun ;  "to  plant  my  boot  heels 
through  Mrs.  Royal  Somebody's  frilly  train.  Day, 
I  too  am  grateful." 

"  Not  really  ? "  she  challenged  him,  while  she 
pointed  upward  to  the  fiercest  glare  of  all,  which 
marked  the  sky  above  the  Parliament  tower.  "  Think 
of  the  music  there,  and  the  pretty  girls,  and  think 
of  Amy's  new  pink  frock,  all  covered  and  smothered 
in  little  real  lace  ruffles." 

"  She 's  welcome  to  smother  it  in  real  hens* 
feathers,  for  all  I  care,"  he  answered  callously. 
"  I  'd  much  rather  be  here  with  you." 

"Not  honestly?" 

"Honestly,  Day." 

Abandoning  Rob's  hair,  she  planted  her  elbows 
on  her  knees  beside  his  head,  clasped  her  hands 
and  surveyed  Jack  from  over  them,  with  dancing 
eyes. 

"  Jack,"  she  admonished  him ;  "  this  really  is 
deplorable.  1  must  take  your  social  education  in 
hand." 

"  Do,"  Rob  urge'd  her.  "  It  may  lead  you  to  take 
your  elbow  off  my  left  ear." 

Day  laughed,  moved  her  elbow  for  the  fraction 
of  an  inch,  and  then  turned  again  to  Jack. 

"  Jack,  I  really  must  have  neglected  your  train- 
ing," she  persisted. 

He  shook  his  head.     Then  he  clasped  his  hands 


JANET  AT  ODDS  169 

at  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  settled  down  deeper  in 
his  chair. 

"  Forgive  my  sprawling,  as  long  as  it 's  Rob  who 
sets  the  fashion,"  he  said.  "  As  for  the  training, 
Day,  I  'm  overtrained.  That 's  what 's  the  trouble." 

Day  eyed  him,  for  a  moment.     Then,  — 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  don't  pick  up  all  the  crumbs  of 
your  meaning,  Jack,"  she  told  him. 

"  Merely  this,"  he  answered  and,  beneath  the  in- 
dolent lightness  of  his  tone  there  came  a  little  note 
of  gravity ;  "  that  I  began  it  all  too  late  and  had 
too  much  of  it  all  at  once.  I  've  had  about  all  that 
I  need." 

"  Bored,  Jack  ?  "  she  rebuked  him. 

"  ~Not  bored,  exactly.  I  only  know  too  well  just 
what  it  amounts  to,  and  I  'm  not  sure  that,  for  me, 
it 's  quite  worth  while.  At  first,  I  enjoyed  it ;  that 
is,  after  I  learned  the  ropes.  People  were  good  to 
me  on  your  account;  your  friends,  Amy  Browne 
especially,  always  saw  to  it  that  I  had  a  good  time." 

"  Then  what  was  the  matter  ?  "  Day  questioned,  as 
once  more  she  attacked  the  task  of  beautifying  Rob 
whose  arm,  flung  upward,  rested  around  hers  in  a 
cosy  sort  of  knot. 

Jack  laughed  a  little. 

"  I  preferred  the  substance  to  the  shadow,"  he 
replied.  "  I  liked  you  better  than  I  did  your  in- 
fluence trickling  around  among  your  friends  and 
soaking  back  on  me." 

"  Pretty  metaphor,  that ! "  Rob  made  idle  comment. 


170  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"True,  though,"  Jack  retorted.  "If  it  hadn't 
been  for  you,  I  'd  have  been  nowhere.  Yes,  I  mean 
it,  Day.  Not  in  a  business  way,  of  course,  but  so- 
cially. It  was  so  in  New  York.  It  is  even  more 
so,  up  here.  People  are  decent  to  me,  not  as  Jack 
Blanchard,  but  as  the  Argyles'  chum.  Under  these 
conditions,  I  naturally  prefer  the  Argyles  to  the 
other  people,  as  long  as  I  really  am  lucky  enough 
to  be  the  Argyles'  chum." 

"  You  bet !  "  Rob  assented  fervently.  "  Your  sen- 
timent does  you  credit,  Jack;  but  don't  you  think 
it 's  rather  warm  to  be  so  much  in  earnest  ?  Next 
thing  you  know,  your  collar  '11  yield  to  your  emo- 
tions, and  then  where  '11  you  be  ?  " 

"  Hush,  Rob !  "  Day  bade  him.  Then  she  pursued 
her  argument.  "  You  can't  live  on  Argyles,  Jack." 

"  Can,  too." 

"  Even  shredded-wheat  doormats,  taken  as  a  steady 
diet,  will  give  you  an  indigestion  in  time,"  Rob  cut 
in.  "  I  know,  for  they  tried  it  at  our  eating  club, 
last  year." 

Day  laid  her  hand  across  his  lips  to  silence  him. 
Rob  nibbled  at  her  fingers;  but  Day  was  too  much 
in  earnest  now  to  heed  even  her  brother. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  as  simply  as  a  little  child ;  "  you 
are  our  chum.  Rob  and  I  are  the  whole  world  to 
each  other,  and  yet  we  are  not  quite  as  well  con- 
tented, unless  you  are  here  with  us.  That  does  n't 
mean,  though,  that  we  expect  you  to  feel  that  way 
about  us.  You  need  other  friends,  lots  of  them; 


JANET  AT  ODDS  171 


else,  you  'd  get  narrow.  Even  Rob  and  I  are  n't 
enough  for  each  other.  We  each  of  us  have  our 
outside  friends,  too." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Jack  nodded  slowly.  "  But,  with 
you,  it 's  different  You  were  born  where  you  are. 
I  was  n't." 

"  No ;  but  you  're  adopted.  What 's  more,  you  Ve 
proved  your  right  to  the  place.  Ask  Amy  Browne." 

Jack  unclasped  his  hands,  clasped  them  again  in 
front  of  him  and  fell  to  studying  his  long,  brown 
fingers. 

"  Confound  it,  Day !  "  he  blurted  out  at  length. 
"  There  is  a  difference.  You  must  see  it,  even  if 
you  won't  own  it.  With  you  and  Rob,  I  'm  per- 
fectly happy,  for  I  know  my  ground.  With  all  these 
other  people,  no  matter  how  decent  to  me  they  are, 
I  feel  I  'm  walking  on  eggs  that  may  go  smash  at 
any  moment." 

"  All  ?  "  Day  asked  him  soberly. 

"  All,  that  is,  but  Sidney.  I  Ve  talked  it  over 
with  her  now  and  then,  and  she  understands." 

Day  was  a  girl  who  had  a  heart  and  also  her  own 
reservations;  yet  now  there  was  no  trace  of  reser- 
vation in  her  smile,  as  she  made  cordial  answer  — 

"  Sidney  always  understands." 

The  night  was  far  spent,  and  Mrs.  Blanchard's 
patience  was  even  farther  spent,  when  Mrs.  Argyle 
brought  her  charges  home,  their  frocks  demolished, 
but  their  eyes  like  stars.  Last  of  all  came  Lady 
Wadhams,  who  lumbered  up  the  stairs,  her  gorgeous 


172  JANET  AT  ODDS 

frock  trailing  after  her  and  her  head  bejewelled  like 
a  Fiji  queen.  Outside  of  Mrs.  Blanchard's  open 
door,  she  halted  to  get  her  breath  and  unbutton  her 
long  gloves.  Her  breath  once  found,  she  spoke. 

"  Mrs.  Blanchard,  that 's  an  amazin'ly  good  young 
man,  is  your  son.  Really,  I  rather  envy  you."  Then 
unconsciously  she  heaved  a  little  sigh.  "  I  had  a 
baby  boy  once,  myself,"  she  added  slowly  and  as  if 
in  spite  of  herself.  "  He  only  lived,  three  days." 
Then,  turning,  she  went  lumbering  away  after  the 
retreating  figure  of  her  maid. 


CHAPTER   THIRTEEN 

L)NG  before  the  hour  set  for  the  beginning  of 
the  pageants,  next  day,  every  approach  to  the 
historic  Plains  of  Abraham  was  blocked  by  a  solid 
mass  of  humanity,  lined  up  in  the  streets,  on  the 
curbs,  on  fences,  on  the  verandas  of  the  houses  along 
the  route.  The  windows  of  the  houses  were  full, 
too,  for  the  dwellers  along  the  Grande  Allee,  by  this 
time  become  familiar  with  the  appearance  of  the 
Prince,  shifted  their  interest  to  the  motley  throng 
gathered  to  see  his  passing,  for  this  was  the  gala  day 
at  the  pageants,  and  at  five  o'clock  he  was  to  enter 
the  royal  box  on  the  grandstand,  and  watch  the 
history  of  Quebec  played  out  before  him. 

The  crowd,  eager,  attentive,  for  the  most  part 
waited  with  an  orderly  patience  which  yet  was  far 
removed  from  apathy.  Now  and  then  they  pushed 
and  jostled;  now  and  then  they  burst  into  a  little 
scattered  cheering.  They  were  strangers  mostly, 
country  people  who  had  come  into  the  city  for  the 
day,  laden  with  babies  and  with  luncheons,  to  catch 
at  least  a  passing  glimpse  of  the  man  who  would 
one  day  be  their  king.  Their  patient  waiting  was 
less  onerous  than  it  seemed.  They  had  come  to  see 
the  Prince;  it  was  for  his  passing  that  they  had 
taken  their  stand,  and  the  time  to  stand  was  very, 


174  JANET  AT  ODDS 

very  long.  Nevertheless,  there  was  much  to  interest 
them  while  they  waited,  much  to  see  in  this  un- 
familiar Quebec  whose  sombre  gray  they  had  found 
all  ablaze  with  bunting.  To  many  of  them,  too,  the 
sight  was  one  for  lawful  pride  of  birth,  as  they 
beheld  their  own  lost  flag,  the  tricolour,  side  by  side 
with  the  union  jack  and  flanked  with  the  less 
familiar  stars  and  stripes,  silent  witness  of  the  two 
guests  most  honoured  at  the  ancient  city's  birthday 
party. 

Meanwhile,  the  actors  themselves  were  getting 
nervous  over  the  prospect  of  their  royal  audience; 
and,  as  scarcely  a  home  throughout  the  city  lacked 
an  actor,  the  city,  outwardly  calm,  within  its  homes 
was  in  a  violent  ferment.  Especially  was  this  true 
of  the  Leslie  house  in  Louis  Street,  where  eight 
actors  were  robing  themselves  in  half  as  many  rooms, 
from  across  whose  thresholds  questions  and  lamenta- 
tions and  appeals  for  help  issued  in  an  unbroken 
fugue. 

"  Oh,  de-ar !  Where  did  I  put  my  girdle  ?  "  This 
was  from  Amy  Browne. 

Day,  from  across  the  hall,  responded. 

"  It 's  here,  on  Janet's  bed.  Do  come  and  hook 
me  up,  that 's  a  darling." 

"  In  a  minute.  This  horrid  crinoline  —  "  Amy 
left  the  finish  of  her  phrase  to  the  imagination  of 
her  hearers. 

"  What 's  the  matter,  Amy  ?  Stuck  in  your  door, 
and  can't  get  through  ?  "  Rob's  voice  rang  out  cheerily 


JANET  AT  ODDS  175 

from  behind  his  own  closed  door.  "  You  '11  have 
to  take  a  reef  in  your  sails,  to-day.  There  is  n't  room 
for  your  skirt  in  any  such  crowd  as  this." 

His  last  words  were  wellnigh  drowned  in  a  roar 
of  woe  from  Paul. 

"  Oh,  one  of  you  fellows !  Hurry  up  here !  I  Ve 
caught  a  hook-thing  in  the  back  of  my  lace  necktie, 
and  it 's  busting  to  all  sorts  of  smithereens.  Do 
hurry  up,  before  it 's  wrecked  entirely.  There-e-e-e ! 
Blanchard !  Argyle !  Somebody !  Do  come !  " 

"  Can't.  Sidney  's  curling  up  my  wig ;  she  '11 
brand  me,  if  I  stir,"  Jack  called  back  placidly  from 
his  seat  on  the  stair-head. 

"  What  are  you  curling  up  your  wig  for,  Jack  ? " 
And  once  again  Rob  gave  evidence  of  the  soundness 
of  his  lungs. 

"  Because  I  put  it  in  a  chair  beside  the  window, 
last  night,  and  then  threw  my  coat  on  top  of  it. 
It  was  all  warped  cornerwise,  this  morning,  like  a 
chicken  with  shaking  palsy.  I  'm  just  beautiful 
now,  though."  And  Jack  ducked  his  curly  dark 
head  at  Sidney  in  token  of  grateful  appreciation. 

Standing  off  a  little,  the  curling  tongs  still  in  her 
hand,  she  surveyed  him  from  top  to  toe. 

"  You  really  do  look  rather  well,"  she  told  him 
then. 

"  Don't  make  me  too  conceited,"  he  bade  her, 
laughing. 

But  she  took  the  conceit  out  of  him  promptly. 

"  It 's  only  this  court  finery  of  yours,  chiefly  your 


176  JANET  AT  ODDS 

wig.  It  is  n't  such  a  distressing  mismatch  as  poor 
Paul's  bright  orange  one.  This  goes  with  your  eyes, 
and  your  new  curls  are  —  princely." 

"  The  last  time  I  saw  His  Royal  Highness,  his 
curls  had  been  cut  off,  and  the  stubs  were  nearer  the 
hue  of  Paul's,"  Jack  told  her  gravely.  "  Still,  it 's 
a  comfort  to  be  told  you  look  princely,  even  if  you 
do  happen  to  be  a  cat  of  another  colour." 

"  I  wish  you  would  keep  still,  while  I  enumerate 
your  charms,"  she  remonstrated. 

Without  stirring,  he  smiled  up  into  her  eyes. 

"  I  'd  rather  go  about  your  own,"  he  objected. 

"  Mine  ?  But  really,  Jack,  you  must  have  been 
quite  good-looking,  before  you  undertook  to  keep 
my  small  sister  from  being  burned  to  death.  And 
yet,"  above  her  fantastic  yellow  gown,  her  face  was 
very  earnest ;  "  do  you  know,  I  rather  miss  the  scar, 
now  it  is  out  of  sight  ? " 

Jack's  hand  went  to  the  side  of  his  face,  and  his 
colour  came. 

"  A  good  miss,"  he  told  her. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Day  and  I  call  it  your  badge  of  honour,"  she 
answered  quietly.  "  To  us,  it  stands  for  the  —  the 
very  Jackishness  that  makes  you  what  you  are." 
Then,  drawing  back  before  something  in  his  level 
eyes,  she  cast  aside  her  gravity.  "  No  use,  Jack. 
Your  red  velvet  clothes  and  your  curly  wig  are  wholly 
adorable ;  but  you  must  make  the  very  most  of  them 
while  they  last.  Next  week,  you  '11  have  to  come 


JANET  AT  ODDS  177 


down  again  to  plain  blue  serge  and  a  cropped  head. 
Meanwhile  —  " 

"  Meanwhile  ?  "  he  queried,  smiling  once  more  into 
her  gray  eyes. 

"  Oh,  do  go  to  thunder  with  your  mooning,  Tids !  " 
Paul  adjured  her  in  a  stentorian  sort  of  bellow. 
"  I  'm  all  tangled  up  in  my  cape,  and  one  of  those 
fuzzybugs  has  ripped  off  my  shoe.  Come  and  sew 
me  up,  quick!  " 

"  Coming,  Paul.  Pull  out  your  ruffles  a  little  bit 
more,  Jack,  and  be  sure  your  feather  does  n't  wobble. 
There !  That  is  really  perfect.  Yes,  Paul.  Do  wait 
till  I  can  get  my  cap  on." 

"  Wait !  With  this  infernal  cape  all  in  a  mess, 
hind  side  before  and  under  my  chin  like  a  baby's 
bib!  If  you  can't  come,  do  send  a  substitute." 

"  Day !  Day !  Day !  Au-ro-ra-a-a-a !  "  It  was 
Rob's  voice  that  cleft  the  air.  "  I  Ve  gone  and 
pulled  the  puckering  string  all  out  of  my  left  trou- 
serlet.  I  can't  wear  it,  all  slopping  about  like  this. 
What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Irene,"  Wade  queried,  in  the  hall  below,  where 
they  were  waiting  for  the  actors  to  array  themselves ; 
"  has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  to  be  thankful  that  I 
have  no  dramatic  aspirations  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear!  Oh,  dear! 
Oh  —  de-ar !  "  Amy  Pope  was  heard  in  comprehen- 
sive lamentation,  before  Irene  could  answer. 

Nodding  expressively  at  Wade,  she  called  up  the 
stairway,  — 

12 


178  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"What  is  it,  Amy?" 

And  the  melancholy  of  Amy's  answering  tone  was 
proportioned  to  the  greatness  of  the  tragedy,  — 

"  I  've  caught  my  crinoline  on  the  corner  of  my 
trunk  and  broken  it  to  bits.  Whatever  shall  I  do  ? 
It 's  almost  four  now,  and  I  look  exactly  like  a 
punctured  tire." 

And  Irene,  leaving  Wade  to  enjoy  his  own  smug 
reflections,  rushed  up  the  stairs,  two  at  a  time,  to 
offer  help  and  consolation,  for  were  not  Amy  and 
Paul  promoted  to  the  main  group  of  the  pavane, 
exactly  in  the  middle  foreground  before  the  royal 
box? 

With  Sidney  and  Irene  to  work,  and  the  other 
girls  to  stand  about  and  advise,  the  mischief  was 
speedily  repaired,  and  it  was  only  a  little  after  four, 
when  the  group  went  down  the  steps.  Rob  stared 
rather  ruefully  along  the  car-less  street. 

"  There  are  certain  minor  inconveniences  about 
having  a  prince  on  board,"  he  remarked. 

"  Rob !  "  Janet's  remonstrance  betrayed  the  fact 
that  she  was  shocked  at  his  flippancy. 

Heedful  of  her  nerves  which  by  now  were  show- 
ing a  little  tightness,  as  result  of  the  past  two  days 
of  domestic  struggle,  he  amended  his  phrase. 

"  For  a  poor  football  cripple,  I  mean.  The  rest 
of  you  can  show  your  loyalty  by  walking  humbly  in 
the  dust  of  the  road.  Myself,  I  find  it  mighty  dis- 
concerting, this  trick  they  have  of  stopping  all  the 
cars,  every  time  His  Eminence  goes  somewhere." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  179 

"  What  do  they  do  it  for  ? "  Amy  Pope  queried, 
with  a  grimace  of  disgust  at  the  empty  tracks. 
"  There  's  nothing  particularly  anarchistic  about  a 
street  car." 

"  They  are  n't  respectful,  ma'am.  It 's  a  belt  line, 
too,  you  see,  and  so  he 's  bound  to  tie  the  whole 
plant  up,  every  time  he  walks  abroad.  You  were 
observing,  Paul  ?  " 

"  That,  if  you  fellows  had  any  sense  at  all,  you  'd 
telephone  to  have  your  mounts,  and  Day's,  sent  here 
for  you.  The  rest  of  us  can  walk.  It  will  get  our 
muscles  into  training ;  besides,  it 's  good  fun  to  see 
the  Amys  bowl  over  everything  in  sight,  as  they  go 
past."  And  Paul  turned  his  back  upon  the  afore- 
said Amys,  while,  with  much  flirting  of  his  cape 
and  swinging  of  his  white-plumed  hat,  he  sent  a 
killing  bow  and  smile  across  the  street  to  Gladys 
Horth. 

She  interpreted  the  smile  as  invitation,  and 
promptly  joined  their  group. 

"  May  I  go  out  with  you,"  she  asked,  as  she  gave 
her  hand  to  Paul  and  then  to  Jack.  "  I  've  been 
waiting  for  a  car  for  ever  so  long;  I  suppose  we 
all  will  have  to  walk.  How  I  envy  you  proud  horse- 
men !  "  And  she  smiled  straight  up  into  Jack's  eyes, 
as  she  stood  beside  him  in  the  sun,  a  dainty  vision 
of  pale  blue  and  silver  filigrees. 

For  the  life  of  him,  he  could  not  keep  from  smil- 
ing back  at  her,  so  open  was  her  admiration  for 
his  changed  appearance.  Nevertheless,  remembering 


ISO  JANET  AT  ODDS 

their  first  meeting,  he  felt  with  her  now,  as  before, 
that  could  he  see  below  the  surface  of  her  nature, 
he  might  find  it  flawed  with  a  curious  little  streak 
of  something,  disloyalty,  or  snobbery,  which  to  his 
honest  eyes  would  make  her  seem  a  thing  quite  apart 
from  girls  like  Sidney  or  like  Day,  girls  he  could 
trust  from  start  to  finish  of  their  lives.  Later  on, 
much  later,  he  reproached  himself  for  this  mistrust. 
In  the  meantime,  he  smiled  at  her;  but  his  smile 
was  fully  as  superficial  as  was  her  obvious  coquetry 
with  him.  A  moment  later,  her  glance  had  moved 
on  to  Janet. 

"  You  do  look  tired,  dear,"  she  said,  and  now  her 
voice  rang  true  and  free  from  coquetry.  "  We  're 
all  so  sorry  for  the  bad  time  you  are  having.  Still, 
we  could  n't  spare  you  now,  and  I  'm  so  glad  you 
have  decided  to  go  on  with  it.  Yours  is  the  best 
part  of  it  all,  of  all  the  women.  It  would  have 
been  a  shame  to  miss  doing  it  for  the  Prince." 

For,  only  that  morning,  Janet  had  shut  her  teeth 
askew  and  sought  the  telephone.  So  intent  was  she 
upon  the  errand  for  which  she  had  been  bracing  her- 
self throughout  a  sleepless  night,  that  she  was  totally 
unconscious  of  Lady  Wadhams'  cumbersome  step 
upon  the  stairs. 

"  Is  that  Mrs.  Horth  ?  Is  Gladys  in  ?  I  'm  Janet. 
May  I  speak  to  Gladys  ?  Oh,  Gladys,  I  am  so  sorry ; 
but  —  I  'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  go  out  of  the 
pageant.  Things  are  getting  worse  here,  all  the  time. 
Mary  Browne  really  is  in  bed,  to-day ;  and  the  poodle 


JANET  AT  ODDS  181 

has  indigestion ;  and  there 's  nobody  to  cook  — 
What  did  you  say  ?  Xo ;  the  poodle  did  n't  do  the 
cooking ;  but  —  Really,  I  can't,  Gladys.  Will  you 
tell  —  " 

She  was  stopped  by  a  hand  upon  her  shoulder,  a 
fat  hand  and  beringed,  but  kindly.  Then  another 
fat  hand  shut  on  the  receiver. 

"  Let  me  speak  a  minute,"  the  owner  of  the  hands 
said  swiftly.  "  Miss  Gladys,  this  is  Lady  Wadhams 
that 's  speakin'.  Miss  Leslie  will  go  on  with  her 
part.  She  can't  be  spared.  I  was  tellin'  the  Prince 
about  her,  only  last  night.  We  don't  need  any 
cookin' ;  we  can  eat  cold  things  for  a  day  or  two. 
The  poodle  ?  He  is  better,  thank  you  very  much. 
He  ran  away  into  the  kitchen  and  stole  the  onion- 
stuff  they  'd  been  fryin'  for  the  soup ;  but  I  think 
he  '11  pull  through,  all  right.  And  you  understand 
the  message :  Miss  Leslie  's  keepin'  on  with  the  part 
as  Madame  Champlain  ?  "  Then,  having  played  out 
her  own  part  as  providence  quite  to  her  satisfaction, 
Lady  Wadhams  went  her  tranquil  way. 

On  the  stairs  she  met  the  poodle,  convalescent  and 
sauntering  forth  in  search  of  exercise  and  entertain- 
ment. Boredom  was  in  his  eyes  and  in  the  droop  of 
his  apology  for  a  tail.  Lady  Wadhams  bent  down 
to  greet  him,  her  pudgy  hand  extended. 

"  Takie  ittie  hindie  poottie,"  she  said,  as  cooingly 
as  her  waist  measure  and  her  natural  impassiveness 
would  allow. 

And  the  poodle  obediently  turned  himself  about 


182  JANET  AT  ODDS 

until  he  faced  her  cornerwise.  Then  he  lifted  one 
small  hind  paw  and  laid  it  courteously  within  her 
Ladyship's  outstretched  and  pudgy  hand.  A  moment 
later,  the  greetings  ended,  her  Ladyship  passed  on- 
ward up  the  stairs. 

From  her  bed  in  the  room  above,  Mary  Browne 
had  been  an  interested  listener  to  the  little  scene. 

"  Holy  mother  of  all  the  afflicted  orphans !  "  she 
made  comment  to  Amy  Pope  who  stood  beside  her, 
smothering  her  amusement  as  best  she  might.  "  To 
be  talking  such  palaver  as  that  to  a  fuzzy  poodle 
without  a  soul  to  his  name!  If  she  feels  like  that 
about  it,  she  'd  best  be  adopting  a  child  and  done 
with  it,  not  wasting  all  her  baby-talk  on  a  senseless 
mop  of  a  heathen  dog." 

Amy  Pope,  like  Lady  Wadhams,  departed  on  her 
way.  Going,  however,  she  carried  in  her  brain  the 
germ  of  a  new  idea,  and  the  idea,  in  time,  was  des- 
tined to  spring  up  and  bear  much  fruit. 

But  so  it  came  about  that  Janet  Leslie,  notwith- 
standing her  misgivings  on  the  domestic  score,  had 
arrayed  herself  with  the  utmost  degree  of  care  and 
sallied  forth  to  join  the  rising  tide  of  a  procession 
moving  out  to  meet  the  Prince. 

Punctually  at  five  he  came,  a  quiet,  yellow-headed 
little  gentleman,  seemingly  far  too  simple  in  his 
tastes  to  care  about  the  official  clamour  which  ac- 
companied his  appearing.  Nevertheless,  there  was 
the  inevitable  clatter  and  dash  of  the  Mounted  Police, 
the  inevitable  band  in  the  near  distance  braying  out 


JANET  AT  ODDS  183 

God  Save  the  King,  the  inevitable  running  up  the 
royal  standard  on  whatever  flagstaff  chanced  to  be 
above  the  royal  head.  The  Prince  shook  hands  with 
his  companions  in  the  royal  box  and  took  his 
seat,  and  then  the  show  began,  the  culminating 
pageantry  for  which  the  rest  had  been  the  mere 
rehearsal. 

Jacques  Cartier  and  his  sailors  had  come  and  gone, 
taking  Donnaconna  with*  them;  and,  with  a  few 
swift  evolutions  of  the  Jackies  from  the  fleet,  the 
stage  was  set  for  Fontainebleau.  Bits  of  white  rail- 
ing sprang  up  from  nowhere  in  particular;  strings 
of  gorgeous  blossoms  transformed  wild  bushes  into 
shrubbery,  and  out  of  a  humdrum  little  thicket  in 
the  foreground  a  fountain  suddenly  came  leaping 
up  to  dance  in  the  lengthening  rays  of  sunset.  Then, 
from  a  distant  woodland  far  off  to  the  westward, 
there  came  riding  the  long  train  of  mounted  cour- 
tiers, gorgeous  in  plumed  hats  and  party-coloured 
silks  and  satins,  their  jaunty  capes  and  skirts  and 
winged  sleeves  dangling  softly  about  their  horses* 
shining  flanks.  Well  in  the  lead  came  King  Francis 
and  his  queen  to  take  their  stand  beneath  the  canopy 
before  the  royal  box,  and  behind  them  rode  a  slender 
figure  whose  appearing  called  forth  a  murmur  of 
enthusiasm  from  the  Quebeckers  in  the  audience. 
Even  Janet,  awaiting  her  turn  outside  the  stage,  so 
far  forgot  her  decorous  training  as  to  joggle  Paul's 
elbow  excitedly. 

"  Is  n't  she  lovely  ?  "  she  demanded. 


184  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Corking,"  Paul  replied  profanely.  "  Who  is 
she?" 

"  She  's  Mrs.  Bertie  Seward-Harlitt." 

Paul  whistled. 

"  That  all  ?  " 

"  It 's  quite  enough,"  Janet  said  a  bit  severely. 
"  She  's  related  to  everybody  that  counts,  all  over 
the  whole  Dominion,  and  she  's  just  frightfully  —  " 
the  word  seemed  squeezed  out  of  her,  as  if  her  throat 
were  congested  by  its  own  effort  to  express  her  em- 
phasis ;  "  exclusive.  It 's  always  the  question,  when 
new  people  come  here,  whether  —  " 

"  You  don't  say  ? "  Paul  cut  in  unfeelingly,  and 
a  bit  too  soon  for  Janet's  liking,  for  Janet,  in  such 
moods,  had  scanty  attraction  for  his  boyish  mind. 
"  I  say,"  he  added,  in  quite  another  tone ;  "  here 
come  the  Argyles.  Look  at  Day !  Is  n't  she  a  beauty 
in  that  green  of  hers  ?  She  's  no  end  prettier  than 
Madame  Hyphen." 

Then  they  fell  silent,  as  the  cavalcade  came  sweep- 
ing past  them,  the  horses  stepping  carefully  among 
the  flock  of  sheep  that  cropped  the  grass  directly 
in  their  pathway.  Slowly  the  long  line  circled  be- 
fore the  royal  box,  divided  and  came  to  a  stand  on 
either  side  of  the  canopy  beneath  which,  still  mounted, 
sat  their  king  and  queen.  Once  in  position,  they 
fell  to  chatting  idly,  as  courtiers  will,  while  pages 
ran  about,  offering  their  heaped-up  baskets  of  fruit 
and  their  goblets  of  wine,  while  before  them  danced 
along  a  band  of  white-robed  nymphs,  followed  by  a 


JANET  AT  ODDS  185 

bevy  of  tiny  satyrs,  with  vine  leaves  trailing  through 
their  hair  and  across  their  tunics  of  brown  beast- 
skins.  The  dancing  ended  and  the  chatter  ceased, 
though,  when  Jacques  Cartier  came,  bringing  his 
captive  with  him,  and  the  courtiers  crowded  round 
to  listen  to  the  tales  of  wonder  that  he  told.  At  the 
end,  though,  the  attention  wavered,  and  it  was  with 
a  manifest  pleasure  that  the  courtiers  saw  the  sturdy 
mariner  made  over  to  a  bishop,  and  King  Francis 
preparing  to  ride  on  once  more. 

Once  more,  then,  the  long  cavalcade  circled  past 
the  grandstand.  Once  more,  every  eye  in  the  pro- 
cession, even  those  of  King  Francis  himself,  fur- 
tively rolled  upward  to  the  royal  box.  Side  by  side 
and  not  far  behind  the  king  came  Rob  and  Day, 
with  Jack  slightly  in  the  lead.  Among  the  other 
courtiers,  many  of  whom  were  plainly  at  the  mercy 
of  their  mounts,  the  riding  of  the  three  young 
strangers  caused  some  comment.  The  Argyles, 
trained  in  the  best  of  New  York  riding  schools,  were 
able  to  manage  anything  that  wore  a  saddle;  while 
Jack,  riding  since  his  little  childhood,  and  accus- 
tomed to  skurry  across  the  African  veldt  on  any 
half-broken  pony  that  he  chanced  to  meet,  cared 
little  whether  his  mount  moved  on  four  legs  or  on 
two.  Accordingly,  all  three  of  them  were  giving 
comparatively  free  rein  to  their  horses,  fretted  by 
long  standing  in  the  face  of  dancing  beast-skins  and 
of  applauding  crowds. 

"  All   right,   Day  ? "   Rob   queried,   as  her 


186  JANET  AT  ODDS 

kicked,  and  then  fell  to  advancing  corner.wise,  pranc- 
ing coquettishly  as  he  came. 

"  All  right,"  she  answered,  as  she  bent  down  to 
pat  the  pony's  neck.  "  He  only  feels  a  little  funny. 
I  don't  wonder.  I  do,  myself,  and  I  rather  envy 
him  the  chance  to  frisk." 

Rob  rode  as  close  to  her  as  he  dared,  by  reason 
of  the  sense  of  humour  of  his  own  mount. 

"  Observe  the  haughty  lady  down  in  front,"  he 
bade  his  sister ;  "  the  one  they  all  made  such  a  row 
about,  when  she  came  on !  She  's  getting  her  come- 
uppance now,  for  sure." 

Day's  glance  followed  the  direction  of  his  eyes. 
Then,  heedless  of  the  eccentric  evolutions  of  her 
own  horse,  she  laughed  outright. 

"  Poor  lady !  "  she  said.    "  I  am  rather  afraid  —  " 

"So's  she,"  Rob  interrupted.  "There!  She's 
off.  Well,  by  Jove!" 

For  the  come-uppance,  by  some  unkind  Fate,  had 
happened  just  in  front  of  the  royal  box.  Mrs.  Bertie 
Seward-Harlitt's  steed  had  grown  used  to  bands  by 
now ;  but  he  saw  no  especial  reason  to  expect  to  meet 
a  symphony  orchestra  sitting  about,  out-doors,  and 
he  shied  violently,  as  the  violins  took  up  a  merry, 
strident  theme.  Mrs.  Bertie  Seward-Harlitt,  as  it 
chanced,  was  more  accustomed  to  a  landau  than  a 
saddle;  and,  accordingly,  it  was  the  inevitable  that 
happened.  The  horse  assumed  the  pace  of  an  antic 
crab,  and  the  rider  parted  with  all  of  her  haughti- 
ness and  a  good  deal  of  her  charm,  as,  hunched  up 


JANET  AT  ODDS  187 

and  clinging  to  the  horse's  mane,  she  looked  about 
her  frantically  in  search  of  succour. 

The  moment  lengthened;  pace  and  hunchiness 
both  increased,  for  all  the  lackeys  were  busy  with 
other  restive  horses,  and  no  one  of  them  thought  to 
cast  a  glance  towards  the  haughty  figure  whose  com- 
ing had  seemed  so  full  of  resourcefulness  and  power. 
The  haughty  figure,  hunchy  now  and  correspondingly 
humble,  closed  her  eyes  and  foresaw  her  finish.  An 
instant  later,  she  opened  her  eyes  with  a  jerk.  A  red- 
velvet  arm  was  steadying  her  to  position.  A  com- 
panion hand,  slim,  brown  and  muscular  beneath  its 
covering  ruffles,  was  shut  upon  her  curb  rein.  Two 
level  eyes  were  looking  at  her  kindly,  with  no  hint 
of  mirth  in  their  brown  depths. 

"  He  's  a  little  frightened  and  very  hard-bitted," 
the  owner  of  the  eyes  said  tranquilly.  "If  you 
don't  mind  my  joining  the  ranks  of  the  upper  no- 
bility, I  think  I  'd  better  lead  him  off  for  you.  He  's 
ugly  now,  and  needs  a  man's  hand  on  him." 

The  rest  of  the  pageants  went  their  way:  the 
flocking  of  the  citizens  to  meet  the  Ursulines;  the 
long  line  of  civic  and  churchly  pomp  which  went 
out  to  meet  de  Tracy;  the  Frontenac  defiance,  and 
then,  last  of  all,  the  coming  of  the  two  royal  armies, 
marching  and  countermarching  side  by  side  in  per- 
fect amity  upon  the  very  field  where,  a  century  and 
a  half  before,  they  spilled  each  other's  blood.  Now 
at  length,  their  hatred  ended,  before  an  audience  of 
their  mingled  races  and  in  the  city  which  they  both 


188  JANET  AT  ODDS 

had  helped  to  build,  they  halted  to  salute  the  man 
who  would  one  day  be  their  king,  while  bands  and 
orchestra  united  in  playing  Canada  and  then  the 
Sauve  le  Eoi. 

The  last  salute  was  given,  the  armies  broke  and 
scattered,  the  royal  standard  fell  from  above  the 
royal  box.  The  pageants  were  ended,  and  the  climax 
of  the  celebration  was  already  in  the  past.  It  had 
meant  study  and  work  and  care  almost  unending, 
yet  not  a  person  of  all  those  present  at  the  final 
tableau  would  have  denied  that  it  all  had  been  quite 
worth  the  while. 

Crossing  the  dusty  field  behind  the  grandstand, 
Janet  halted,  as  she  heard  her  name.  Turning,  she 
found  Mrs.  Bertie  Seward-Harlitt  beside  her,  and 
Mrs.  Bertie  Seward-Harlitt's  hand  was  held  out  to 
hers. 

"  Miss  Leslie,  I  think  ?  I  used  to  know  your 
Aunt  Mabel,  when  we  were  in  the  convent;  I  ought 
to  have  known  you,  long  ago.  Are  you  willing  to 
introduce  your  friend  to  me,  the  one  in  red  ?  I  want 
to  thank  him." 

Five  minutes  later,  Mrs.  Bertie  Seward-Harlitt 
turned  away.  Her  final  words,  — 

"  And  remember,  Mr.  Blanchard,  that  I  am  always 
at  home  on  Tuesday  afternoons,"  were  plainly  heard 
by  all  the  group  but  one. 

That  one  was  Jack  himself.  With  a  hasty  "  Beg 
pardon !  "  he  had  sprung  forward  and  jerked  a  baby 
backward  out  of  the  path  of  an  approaching  motor 


JANET  AT  ODDS  189 

car.  It  was  a  detail  noticed  by  no  one  but  Amy 
Pope  that  the  baby  wore  a  blue  satin  coat  that  had 
seen  better  days.  Another  detail  noted  by  her 
friendly  eyes  was  the  look  of  utter,  abject  weariness 
upon  the  face  of  the  baby's  elderly  companion.  In 
the  chorus  of  talk  which  followed,  however,  she  was 
too  much  interested  in  the  pageants  to  remember  to 
mention  either  of  these  details  to  Paul. 


CHAPTEE   FOURTEEN 

THE  next  Monday  found  everybody's  nerves  on 
edge,  everybody  as  near  to  being  cross  as  gen- 
eral training  and  individual  disposition  would  allow. 

A  month  of  preparation,  a  week  of  actual  achieve- 
ment and  a  day  which  is  a  glorious  climax  to  all 
which  has  gone  before:  these  things  are  exhausting 
in  themselves.  Add  to  them  a  state  of  domestic 
upheaval  when  meal  hours  are  irregular,  the  cook 
ill  in  bed  and  household  work  in  arrears ;  add  again 
a  raw,  cold  day  when  the  clouds  hang  gray  and 
heavy,  and  the  wind,  sweeping  up  the  river,  seems 
to  eat  to  the  very  marrow  of  one's  bones:  add  these, 
and  you  have  the  main  essentials  of  a  nervous  crisis. 
Everybody  was  tired  out,  a  few  were  decidedly  cross, 
and  Amy  Browne  was  sneezing  until  she  had  scant 
leisure  to  eat  her  breakfast.  And  the  worst  of  it  all 
was  that  there  was  another  performance  of  the 
pageants  scheduled  for  that  same  afternoon. 

Amy  Pope  led  the  mutiny. 

"  I  won't  go  a  step  to  their  old  pageant,  such  a 
day  as  this." 

Paul  finished  scooping  out  his  grapefruit,  one  of 
a  box  which  Wade,  foreseeing  famine,  had  thought- 
fully added  to  his  luggage. 

"  Then  where  '11  be  I  ?  "  he  queried  then. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  191 

"  You  can  take  Sidney." 

Sidney  laughed. 

"  Thanks,  dear.  I  decline  to  be  took  as  second 
fiddle,  even  if  Paul  is  my  cousin.  Besides,  I  hap- 
pen to  have  a  partner  of  my  own.  Beg  pardon, 
Amy  ?  " 

It  was  Amy  Browne,  this  time,  and  she  was  offer- 
ing remonstrance. 

"  Sidney  Stayre !  You  won't  think  of  going  out 
to  those  Plains  on  such  a  day  ?  You  '11  blow  off  into 
the  river,  and  get  a  galloping  consumption." 

Sidney  laughed  again. 

"  Don't  worry.  I  'm  tough  as  a  pine  knot,  and  I 
never  have  a  cold.  Pound  up,  Rob,  when  you  knock 
on  wood ;  else,  it  does  n't  work  the  charm.  Besides, 
I  have  a  New  England  conscience.  It 's  not  fair 
to  keep  in  all  the  fun,  while  royalty  is  looking  on, 
and  then  drop  out  and  spoil  it,  when  the  common 
herd  can  afford  to  buy  their  tickets." 

"  I  thought  you  did  n't  believe  in  our  class  dis- 
tinctions, Sidney,"  Janet  rebuked  her. 

Sidney  put  her  elbows  on  the  table,  for  Lady  Wad- 
hams  and  the  poodle  were  breakfasting  in  their  room, 
that  morning. 

"  I  don't,  after  a  fashion.  At  least,  after  a  fashion, 
I  do,"  she  said  luminously. 

"  What  I  love,  Janet,"  Day  said,  too  thoughtfully 
intent  upon  her  subject  to  heed  the  little  frown  on 
Janet's  brow ;  "  is  the  sweet  human  courtesy  of  your 
British  upper  classes." 


192  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Janet's  eyes  flashed.  Only  Mrs.  Argyle  saw  the 
flash,  however,  and  she  was  too  far  from  Day  to 
check  her  speech  without  an  obvious  effort  which 
would  only  increase  the  strain  by  bringing  to  bear 
upon  it  the  general  attention  of  the  table. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Day  ?  "  Janet's  voice  was 
elaborately  polite. 

Day  laughed,  as  at  some  amusing  recollection. 

"  It  was  on  the  reviewing  stand,  Friday ;  at  least, 
one  of  it  was.  It  was  one  of  the  named  species,  a 
lusty  young  giant  of  twenty  or  so,  and  he  stood  up 
on  his  seat  and  then  opened  his  umbrella  to  keep  off 
the  sun.  Of  course,  I  'm  used  to  the  laws  that  govern 
college  games  at  home;  but,  even  allowing  for  my 
American  bigotry,  it  did  seem  to  me  he  was  a 
little  —  " 

Jack  interposed,  and  gravely. 

"  I  was  beside  Day,  and  I  'm  British.  Neverthe- 
less, it  did- seem  to  me  he  was  very  big." 

Day  swept  on  with  her  arraignment. 

"  And  I  asked  the  way  of  a  man,  the  other  day. 
He  looked  a  gentleman,  and  he  had  a  wife  with  him, 
and  he  surely  was  old  enough  to  be  discreet." 

"  Was  he  rude  ? "  Kob  queried,  in  sudden  pug- 
nacity. 

"  He  was  n't  anything  at  all.  He  gazed  at  my 
hat,  and  then  at  my  shoes;  but  not  at  me.  Then 
he  turned  his  back  and  walked  off,  without  answer- 
ing a  word." 

"  Up  here,  we  don't  speak  to  people  till  we  have 


JANET  AT  ODDS  193 

been  introduced,"  Janet  said,  a  little  too  pointedly 
for  Rob's  taste. 

"  That 's  not  speaking,"  he  retorted.  "  It 's  just 
the  sort  of  notice  you  give  a  corner  lamp  post.  No- 
body that  was  n't  an  utter  cad  would  take  such  a 
thing  as  an  attempt  at  conversation." 

"  Customs  differ,"  Janet  said  briefly. 

Rob's  reply  was  equally  brief. 

"  Thank  the  Lord,  they  do !  " 

By  this  time,  Paul,  as  well  as  Mrs.  Argyle,  was 
watching  Janet's  face.  What  he  saw  there  led  him 
to  remonstrate. 

"  When  I  was  a  little  chap,"  he  observed  at  no- 
body in  particular ;  "  my  mother  taught  me  I  must  n't 
criticize  the  pudding,  when  I  went  a-visiting." 

Day's  laugh  was  free  from  any  animosity. 

"  If  that 's  aimed  at  me,  I  was  criticizing  the 
upper  crust  of  the  pie,"  she  corrected  gayly. 

Amy  Browne  suppressed  a  sneeze,  before  she 
spoke. 

"  Day,  you  're  positively  underbred,"  she  argued. 
"  It 's  only  the  submerged  tenth  who  admit  there 
are  such  things  as  classes." 

"  I  do,"  Janet  said  flatly,  and  the  two  crisp  words 
once  more  disturbed  the  surface  of  the  talk  which 
Paul  and  Amy  had  been  at  such  pains  to  smooth. 

No  one  answered  her,  however,  and  the  meal  went 
on  in  silence  to  a  hasty  end.  As  they  left  tl^e  table, 
Rob  linked  his  arm  in  that  of  Day  with  a  manifest 
air  of  protection.  The  gesture  was  not  lost  on  Janet, 

13 


194  JANET  AT  ODDS 

who  gave  a  hostile  sniff  and  betook  herself  in  the 
direction  of  the  kitchen.  Paul  overtook  her  in  the 
butler's  pantry. 

"  What 's  your  hurry  ?  "  he  asked  as  casually  as 
if  Janet's  eyes  had  not  forestalled  the  answer  to  his 
question. 

"  I  have  things  to  do." 

"  What 's  the  use  of  getting  busy,  so  early  in  the 


morning  ?  " 


"  It  is  almost  ten  o'clock,"  she  argued,  more  for 
the  sake  of  opposition  in  general  than  for  anything 
else. 

"  Suppose  it  is  ?  Let  it  be  almost  noon,  if  you 
choose.  We  're  only  just  through  breakf  ast,  and 
breakfast  time  is  always  early.  Let  the  busy  wait, 
and  come  and  play  with  the  rest  of  us  for  a  while, 
before  we  all  go  at  it." 

"  Mary  needs  me,"  Janet  answered  briefly,  and 
Paul  could  not  gainsay  her,  for  Mary  Browne,  down- 
stairs again  in  spite  of  the  doctor's  orders,  might 
well  be  in  need  of  almost  any  sort  of  help. 

"  All  right.     I  '11  come,  too,"  he  said  tranquilly. 

But  Janet  shook  her  head,  although  her  injured 
dignity  could  not  wholly  repress  her  smile. 

"  I  don't  want  you,  thank  you." 

His  honest  gray  eyes  half  mirthful,  half  anxious, 
Paul  took  the  bull  by  the  horns  and  hung  on. 

"  Janet,  you  're  cranky,  to-day." 

She  nodded,  in  swift  decision. 

"  I  know  it.     What 's  more,  I  'm  cross." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  195 

"  At  me  ?  " 

"No,  never!" 

The  heartiness  of  her  voice  surprised  him,  and  his 
face  cleared  a  little.  Manlike,  he  leaped  the  next 
point  entirely. 

"  Honestly,  I  don't  think  Argyle  meant  to  be  a 
beast,"  he  urged  her. 

"  Perhaps  not,"  she  admitted  grudgingly.  "  Still, 
he  was." 

Paul  undertook  to  argue. 

"  Not  really.  He  would  n't ;  he  's  not  the  sort. 
It 's  only  that  he  worships  Day,  and  gets  a  little  hot 
when  anybody  disagrees  with  her.  It  isn't  you 
alone.  I  have  noticed  it  before.  And  you  did  dis- 
agree with  Day,  you  know."  Paul's  accent  might 
have  proceeded  from  the  lips  of  his  own  great 
grandsire. 

"  I  should  have  been  ashamed  of  myself,  if  I 
had  n't,"  Janet  responded  testily. 

"  May  be.  May  be."  Paul  dismissed  that  phase 
of  the  question  in  all  haste.  "  Anyhow,  you  did ; 
and  that  brought  him  to  the  rescue,  for  he  was  in 
earnest  at  first.  But  that  did  n't  last,  you  know." 

Janet  bent  on  him  a  glance  of  withering  scorn. 

"  What  bats  you  men  are,  Paul !  You  mean  well, 
I  suppose;  but  you  don't  mend  matters  much,  when 
you  try  to  patch  up  a  peace.  I  've  known  Rob  Argyle 
longer  a  good  deal  than  you  have." 

"  Well  ?  "  Paul  asked  her,  for  her  pause  betokened 
a  desire  to  have  him  say  something,  and  he  was  a 


196  JANET  AT  ODDS 

little  at  a  loss  to  know  what  that  something  ought 
to  be. 

Janet  silently  traced  a  pattern  on  the  shelf  before 
her,  silently  drew  her  forefinger  through  and  through 
the  pattern.  Then  she  looked  up  and  spoke,  and 
her  voice  was  unsteady. 

"  It 's  not  the  first  time  I  Ve  had  a  fuss  with  Rob 
on  that  same  subject.  I  know  what  he  thinks  of  this 
country.  I  know  what  he  thinks  of  us  Canadians. 
And  I  can't  sit  by,  the  only  Canadian  among  you 
all,  and  hear  our  ways  made  fun  of  and  despised." 

"  Blanchard  is  Canadian,  too,"  Paul  suggested, 
from  sheer  lack  of  anything  else  to  say. 

This  time,  his  suggestion  went  all  wrong.  Janet's 
chin  lifted  itself  in  its  well-known  gesture  of  ex- 
treme hostility. 

"  A  Canadian  ?  Yes,  of  course.  But  not  of  my 
sort,  though,"  she  said,  with  a  crisp  finality  which 
made  Paul  blink  as  at  a  physical  blow,  for  he  had 
long  since  forgotten  that,  once  upon  a  time,  he  had 
uttered  similar  sentiments  in  talking  to  Amy  Pope. 

And  it  was  Jack  himself  who  unwittingly  pre- 
cipitated the  next  crisis,  not  Rob  at  all.  Rob  was 
on  his  guard,  warned  by  Paul  who  had  come  striding 
into  his  room,  a  half-hour  after  breakfast. 

"  I  did  n't  hear  you  say  '  Come,' "  he  observed, 
as  he  cast  himself  into  a  chair  before  his  host. 

"  Naturally  not,"  Rob  retorted.  "  I  did  n't  hear 
you  knock." 

"  I  did  n't"    Paul  chuckled.     "  I  came  by  stealth 


JANET  AT  ODDS  197 

and  on  a  secret  mission.  I  say,  Argyle,  you'd  best 
be  a  little  careful  in  your  walk  and  conversation. 
Janet  is  getting  on  her  nerves." 

"  Quite  the  contrary,  she  's  already  got,"  Rob  cor- 
rected cheerfully.  "  I  found  that  out  for  myself, 
this  morning." 

"  So  I  noticed.  Later,  I  pursued  investigations 
on  my  own  account." 

"  Get  stung  ?  "  Eob  queried.  "  No ;  you  need  n't 
sit  up  and  get  huffy,  old  chap.  I  've  known  Janet 
longer  than  you  have." 

Paul  rose,  crossed  to  the  window,  faced  about. 

"  I  knew  her  first,  though,  knew  her  in  their 
palmy  days,"  he  answered  doggedly.  "  I  know  the 
things  she  's  had  to  step  down  from.  What 's  more, 
knowing  her,  I  know  the  way  't  was  bound  to  rasp 
her  feelings.  Argyle,  I  like  Janet  Leslie;  like  her 
a  whole  lot." 

Eob  sat  staring  up  at  him  lazily.  He  liked  Paul, 
heartily  admired  Paul's  championship  of  the  absent 
Janet.  Nevertheless,  still  being  Rob  Argyle,  he  was 
bound  to  tease. 

"  I  like  Janet,  too ;  but  I  can't  say  I  like  her  little 
tantrums,"  he  remarked. 

Paul  stuck  his  hands  into  his  pockets. 

"  Then  what  makes  you  stir  them  up  ? "  he  asked 
shortly. 

"  I  stir  ?  I  would  n't  stir  a  pussy-cat,"  Rob  argued. 
"  Still,  I  can't  well  sit  by  and  hear  her  slanging 
Day.  You  could  n't,  if  you  had  a  sister." 


198  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Unwittingly,  Rob  had  delivered  a  home  thrust. 
Paul  did  have  a  sister,  as  it  chanced,  a  sister  daintily 
superior  to  all  his  boyish  interests  and  concerns.  He 
would  as  soon  have  thought  of  championing  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  as  of  rising  up  to  the  defence  of 
pretty  Judith. 

"  IST-no,"  he  admitted.  "  I  suppose  not.  Fact  is, 
I  honestly  have  n't  much  idea  what  started  the  row, 
in  the  first  place.  The  main  thing  is  that  we  've 
got  to  go  easy,  or  we  shall  bust  up  again.  Janet 's 
tired  out,  poor  little  soul,  and  cranky.  When 
she  gets  cranky  —  she  always  did,  you  know,  even 
when  we  were  at  Grande  Riviere  —  she'  gets  all 
sorts  of  queer  notions  into  her  head.  Just  now, 
she  thinks  we  're  all  in  league  against  her  and  her 
Canada." 

Rob  nodded. 

"  Exactly.     It 's  quite  chronic.     Proceed." 

"  That 's  all.  I  tried,  just  for  argument,"  Paul 
laughed,  notwithstanding  his  recent  protestations  of 
loyalty ;  "  to  point  out  to  her  that  Blanchard  was 
also  Canadian.  I  thought  I  was  rather  clever  to 
think  it  up ;  but  the  idea  did  n't  seem  to  please  her 
in  the  least.  She  turned  and  rended  me,  and  like- 
wise rended  him." 

The  laugh  died  out  of  Rob's  blue  eyes. 

"  She  did ;    did  she  ?  "  he  asked  crisply. 

Paul  sought  to  excuse  the  situation. 

"  Janet  is  a  good  little  soul,  even  if  she  is  cranky," 
he  urged  again.  "  Besides,  I  know  what  her  family 


JANET  AT  ODDS  199 


used  to  stand  for  here.  No  wonder  now  and  then  she 
turns  a  little  snobbish." 

There  was  a  pause.     Then,  — 

"  Oh,"  Rob  made  comprehensive  comment. 

And  Paul,  hearing,  decided  it  was  time  for  him 
to  leave  the  room.  Outside  the  door,  however,  he 
freed  his  mind. 

"  Hang  it,  Janet  always  was  a  little  Tartar !  " 
he  observed.  "  After  all,  though,  I  'm  for  her,  right 
or  wrong.  A  girl  like  that  is  never  half  so  cranky, 
once  she  finds  out  she  's  got  somebody  to  help  fight 
her  battles  for  her."  From  which,  it  was  obvious 
that  Janet  Leslie  was  by  no  means  the  only  girl 
whom  Paul  had  known. 

Left  to  himself,  Rob  digested  his  warning,  made 
mental  note  of  thankful  liking  for  the  boy  who  had 
come  to  offer  it,  resolved  to  abide  by  it  as  best  he 
could,  and  then  forgot  the  matter  utterly.  Of  course, 
had  he  taken  the  affair  in  all  seriousness  and  sought 
out  the  path  of  sanctity,  he  would  have  hunted  up 
Janet  and  gone  about  making  peace.  Instead,  he 
hunted  up  his  stick,  for  these  strenuous  days  had 
been  telling  on  his  knee ;  and,  stick  in  one  hand,  cap 
in  the  other,  he  sallied  do\vn  the  stairs  in  search  of 
pleasure.  He  found  his  pleasure  by  way  of  Sidney 
and  the  upper  terrace.  Heedless  of  the  biting  wind, 
they  loitered  there  through  half  the  morning,  leaning 
on  the  rail,  watching  the  war  ships,  and  talking  of 
the  endless  interests  they  shared  in  common.  Rob's 
existence  might  have  been  cloyed  with  too  many  girls. 


200  JANET  AT  ODDS 

They  would  have  been  willing  to  do  the  cloying,  for 
they  one  and  all  were  eager  to  be  friends  with  the 
great,  jovial  boy  with  the  limp  in  his  knee  and  the 
rollicking  fun  in  his  blue  eyes.  However,  they  failed 
in  their  endeavours.  Rob  smiled  cheerily  upon  them 
all,  then  went  his  way  with  Day  and  Sidney  and, 
now  and  then,  Janet.  But  Janet,  he  confessed  to 
Day,  was  like  curry;  a  little  of  her  went  a  long, 
long  way.  Day,  on  the  other  hand,  was  merely  half 
of  himself;  and  of  Sidney  he  never  tired.  No 
matter  how  long  the  intervals  between  their  talks, 
they  began  just  where  they  had  left  off.  Her  fun 
matched  his  own;  and  no  one,  not  even  Day,  could 
be  more  strongly,  sanely  helpful  in  his  graver 
hours. 

Jack,  meanwhile,  completely  heedless  of  the 
weather,  had  gone  faring  forth  with  Day  and  Amy 
Pope.  The  roughness  of  the  river,  all  choppy  with 
the  wind,  had  tempted  them,  and  they  had  taken 
themselves  off  by  the  Island  boat.  They  returned, 
wind-blown  and  hilarious,  to  meet  on  the  steps  Rob 
and  Sidney,  as  hilarious  as  themselves  and  far  more 
blown;  and,  with  the  slightest  possible  delay  to 
smootK  their  plumage,  the  five  went  trooping  in  to 
luncheon,  full  of  ozone  and  jokes,  and  hungry  as  a 
group  of  bears.  And  Janet  had  spent  the  morning 
in  the  kitchen;  and,  just  at  noon,  her  tea  cakes  had 
fallen  flat. 

Nevertheless,  until  the  meal  was  nearly  over  and 
Lady  Wadhams  had  left  the  table,  there  was  no  out- 


JANET  AT  ODDS  201 

ward  sign  of  friction.  True,  Janet  was  quite  obvi- 
ously blighted,  quite  obviously  in  a  frame  of  mind 
to  take  the  hilarity  of  the  others  as  an  insult  directed 
at  herself.  However,  Amy  Browne  was  also  blighted, 
by  reason  of  her  cold,  and  Irene  Jessup,  by  reason 
of  Wade  Winthrop's  approaching  departure ;  so,  from 
being  in  such  good  and  reasonable  company,  Janet's 
attitude  escaped  all  notice.  The  actual  meal  ended 
by  the  consumption  of  everything  in  sight,  Janet  sat 
tapping  her  fingers  restlessly  on  the  cloth,  in  token 
that  she  wished  the  others  would  push  back  their 
chairs  and  end  their  talk.  The  others  did  nothing 
of  the  kind.  Instead  of  that,  heedless  of  their  man- 
ners, they  pushed  back  their  plates,  plumped  their 
elbows  on  the  table  and  fell  into  animated  discus- 
sion. Janet  ceased  her  restless  tapping,  pushed  back 
her  chair  an  inch  or  so,  and  sat  aggressively,  rebuk- 
ingly  erect,  while  she  smiled  disdainfully  at  nothing 
in  particular. 

"  What  gets  me,"  Rob  turned  slightly  in  his  chair, 
and  flung  one  arm  across  the  corner  of  its  back ;  "  is 
the  amount  of  gray  matter  that  has  gone  into  this 
thing.  Take  the  two  armies  by  themselves,  I  sup- 
pose the  dress  is  accurate  in  each  little  detail.  It 
would  be  less  work  to  costume  an  entire  play." 

Jack,  across  the  table,  looked  up  at  his  friend. 

"  Do  you  know,  Rob,"  he  said  thoughtfully ;  "  noth- 
ing in  the  world  has  made  me  realize  how  I  am  get- 
ting Americanized,  like  that  final  scene." 

Janet  shot  one  swift  glance   of  hostility  at  the 


202  JANET  AT  ODDS 

speaker,  whose  level  eyes  were  fixed  on  Rob.  Then 
she  resumed  her  disdainful  smiling. 

"  As  to  how,  old  man  ?  "  Rob  asked. 

"  The  way  it  strikes  me.  Everybody  else  thinks 
it  a  beautiful  piece  of  allegory.  I  suppose  I  should, 
too,  if  I  'd  kept  on  living  here ;  but,  for  the  life  of 
me,  I  can't  help  seeing  the  funny  side." 

"  Me,  too,"  Paul  murmured ;  but  no  one  heeded 
him,  for  Janet  was  speaking  now,  and  hotly. 

"  I  can't  see  anything  at  all  funny  in  it." 

Strange  to  say,  in  all  his  past  experience  of  Janet, 
Jack  had  never  seen  her  really  roused.  Accordingly, 
he  had  no  notion  of  what  her  accent  portended,  and, 
after  a  glance  at  her,  he  went  on,  just  as  he  had 
begun. 

"  Do  what  you  will,  you  can't  make  the  audience 
forget  that  they  're  supposed  to  be  the  armies  that 
butchered  each  other  on  that  very  spot.  Under  those 
conditions,  it  is  a  little  comic,  their  marching  up 
and  down  together  for  a  while,  and  then  just  fading 
out  into  space  once  more." 

Rob  laughed. 

"  Where  's  your  sentiment,  Jack  ?  It 's  the  peace 
of  nations,  and  all  that." 

Day  always  said  that  Jack  was  never  half  so  likable 
as  when  he  smiled.  He  smiled  now,  and  the  lighting 
of  his  face  took  from  its  intentness  and  added  the 
boyish  charm  which  now  and  then  came  back  to  him, 
despite  his  seven  and  twenty  years. 

"  When  I  was  a  little  chap  in  school,"  he  argued ; 


JANET  AT  ODDS  203 

"  and  got  licked  for  fighting,  I  had  to  shake  hands 
wit  J.  the  other  chap  to  prove  I  'd  made  it  up  again. 
Why  don't  they  do  that,  too,  while  they  're  about 
it?" 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  very  pretty  scene,"  Day 
stated  gravely ;  "  if  Mr.  Montcalm  and  Mr.  Wolfe 
fell  on  each  other's  necks  and  kissed." 

"  Like  Mr.  Pig  ?  "  Kob  asked  her  in  a  swift  aside, 
since  no  one  else  but  Day  could  be  expected  to  share 
his  memory  of  their  childhood's  classic. 

Jack's  smile  widened  to  a  laugh. 

"  By  Jove,  you  had  it,  too !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  '  My 
best  and  dearest  son ! '  Mr.  Pig  fits  the  case  exactly." 

Curiously  enough,  Janet's  self-control,  which  would 
have  stood  out  against  any  amount  of  argument,  went 
down  before  an  epithet.  She  turned  on  Jack  her 
angry  eyes. 

"  Thank  you,  Jack  Blanchard,"  she  said  crisply. 
"  I  've  been  waiting  for  some  time  to  find  out  what 
sort  of  a  Canadian  you  called  yourself,  and  now  I 
know.  What 's  more,  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the 
information.  Up  here,  my  friends  and  I  have  a 
disagreeable  name  for  the  Canadians  who  go  /  into 
the  States  to  live,  and  then  come  back  again  to  laugh 
at  us,  and  call  our  heroes  pigs." 

Hasty,  illogical,  unmerited,  the  words  flew  across 
the  table,  sharp  as  arrows,  and,  from  their  very 
sharpness,  as  full  of  hurt.  For  a  moment,  Jack 
stared  in  blank  amazement  at  the  girl  whom  he  had 
judged  almost  a  woman,  turned  now  to  the  likeness 


204  JANET  AT  ODDS 

of  an  angry  child.  Then  his  smile  came  back  to  him, 
full  of  its  old  friendly  kindliness. 

"  You  did  n't  understand  me,  Janet,"  he  said 
lightly. 

But  Janet,  angry  at  him  for  rousing  her  antagon- 
ism, angry  at  herself  for  losing  her  self-control,  angry 
at  the  others  for  pausing  in  their  talk  to  stare  at  her 
in  wonder  for  her  outbreak,  tired  out  in  body  and 
in  nerves  and  feeling  herself  alone  at  bay  before 
them  all,  Janet  proceeded  to  lose  her  head  entirely. 

"  I  don't  know  any  especial  reason  I  should  under- 
stand you,"  she  answered  shortly.  "  Even  if  we  did 
happen,  both  of  us,  to  have  been  born  Canadians, 
you  must  admit  it  is  the  only  thing  we  have  in 
common." 

There  was  an  instant  of  utter  silence.  Then  Amy 
Pope  rose  briskly  to  her  feet. 

"  Jack,"  she  said,  calling  him  by  his  given  name 
for  the  first  time  in  their  acquaintance ;  "  don't  you 
remember  you  said  you  were  going  to  take  me  up 
the  glacis  to  watch  the  regattas  ? " 

And  Jack  followed  her,  his  honest  nature  for  the 
once  rejoicing  in  a  fib. 


CHAPTEE   FIFTEEN 

IT  was  a  meeker  Janet  who  sought  Jack  out,  next 
morning,  and  offered  him  her  hand. 

"  I  'm  the  child  who  had  to  be  licked  for  fighting," 
she  quoted,  with  an  attempted  joke.  "  I  've  come  to 
shake  hands  and  say  I  'm  sorry." 

His  hand  shut  on  her  fingers,  clammy  with  her 
nervousness. 

"That's  all  right,  Janet,"  he  said  kindly.  "I 
dare  say  I  was  n't  quite  polite  in  what  I  said.  I 
did  n't  mean  to  be  rude,  though." 

"  I  did,"  she  made  unexpected  response. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  he  said.  "  After  all,  though,  it  must 
have  been  a  bit  my  own  fault ;  there  's  generally 
fault  on  both  sides,  when  there 's  a  row.  I  hate 
.rows,  Janet." 

Steadily,  kindly,  his  level  brown  eyes  were  look- 
ing into  hers.  There  was  no  reservation  in  their 
friendliness,  no  rebuke;  yet  Janet's  eyes  fell  away 
from  before  them. 

Again  her  response  was  unexpected,  the  more  so 
in  its  very  seriousness. 

"  I  don't,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  wish  I  did ;  but 
now  and  then  I  rather  like  them." 

His  hand  still  holding  hers,  he  appeared  to  be 
considering  intently. 


206  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  I  do,"  she  said  shortly.  "  Unreasonable  as  I  am, 
I  don't  always  like  to  fight  for  nothing.  But  now 
and  then  it  is  such  a  relief  to  speak  out  and  say 
just  what  you  think.  Don't  you  ever  get  tired  of 
smirking  along  through  life,  pretending  you  like 
things  that  you  utterly  hate  ?  " 

So  tempestuous  was  this  new  outbreak  that  Jack 
prudently  suppressed  the  laugh  which  wellnigh 
choked  him.  And  yet  there  was  some  truth  in 
Janet's  words. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  do  that  sort  of  thing,"  he  an- 
swered, with  the  gravity  that  somehow  matched  his 
wide,  straight  shoulders  and  his  level  eyes. 

"  How  do  you  keep  from  doing  it,  I  'd  like  to 
know  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  By  not  hating  things,"  he  told  her  quietly,  and 
then  despised  himself  for  taking  refuge  in  his  years 
to  give  her  the  rebuke  she  yet  so  richly  deserved. 

Janet  missed  the  rebuke  in  studying  the  fact. 

"  Don't  you  ever  hate  things  ?  "  she  demanded,  for 
a  second  time. 

"  Not  often.     What 's  the  use  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  help  it  ?  " 

He  laughed. 

"  By  dodging  them,  before  they  come  within  hating 
distance,"  he  assured  her  gayly. 

"  But  you  can't,  always,"  Janet  persisted. 

He  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then,  honestly  and 
briefly,  he  spoke  out  his  creed. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  207 

"  When  it  comes  to  a  grip  at  close  quarters,  Janet, 
things  are  n't  ever  so  beastly  as  we  think  they  're 
going  to  be."  Once  his  words  were  spoken,  he  paused 
to  allow  them  to  sink  into  her  mind,  sure  from  his 
three-year  study  of  her  character  that  she  would 
recall  them  later.  Then  he  changed  the  subject 
abruptly  and  harked  back  to  her  former  phrase. 
"  Was  the  licking  bad  ?  "  he  inquired,  with  inten- 
tional lightness. 

Her  mind  was  too  intent  upon  the  later  phases 
of  their  talk  to  remember  what  had  gone  before. 

"  The  licking  ?  "  she  queried  blankly. 

"  Yes.  The  one  you  said  you  had  to  take  for  get- 
ting into  a  row,"  he  reminded  her. 

Janet's  face  lost  its  intentness,  darkened. 

"  Yes,"  she  admitted  shortly ;  "  awful.  The  ones 
you  give  yourself  always  are,  you  know." 

Janet's  words  contained  the  truth,  yet  not  the 
whole  truth.  Her  worst  discipline,  perhaps,  had  come 
out  of  her  own  conscience ;  but  the  first  came  by  way 
of  Mrs.  Argyle. 

"  Janet,  dear."  And  a  tap  on  Janet's  door,  the 
previous  evening,  had  added  explanation  of  the  pur- 
pose of  the  words. 

"  Come  in,  Mrs.  Argyle,"  Janet  had  answered 
listlessly. 

Mrs.  Argyle  turned  the  knob  and  opened  the  door. 
Janet,  weary  and  dejected,  was  taking  off  her  pageant 
costume.  She  looked  up  at  Mrs.  Argyle  with  a  forced 
and  uncertain  smile;  but  the  snap  had  all  gone  out 


208  JANET  AT  ODDS 


of  her  and,  with  it,  all  her  girlish  poise.  The  day 
had  been  cold,  the  pageant  long,  and  Janet,  tired 
with  the  reaction  from  her  last  week's  triumph,  was 
yet  more  tired  with  the  reaction  from  her  broken 
self-control.  Beneath  her  high-piled  hair,  her  face 
looked  wan  and  pitiful,  as  it  turned  to  Mrs.  Argyle. 
And  Mrs.  Argyle,  womanly,  motherly,  had  been  a 
tempestuous  girl,  herself,  and  not  so  very  long  ago. 

"  Janet  child,"  she  said  quietly ;  "  you  're  too  tired 
to  dress  and  go  down  again,  to-night,  and  so  am  I. 
Slip  on  a  kimono,  and  cuddle  down  here  on  the  couch 
with  me,  and  have  a  little  talk." 

For  a  moment,  Janet  stiffened  with  the  innate 
resentment  she  always  showed  to  any  offer  of  unasked 
affection.  Mrs.  Argyle,  busy  with  folding  up  the 
purple  satin  frock,  had  turned  her  back  to  the  girl, 
and  was,  to  all  seeming,  quite  unconscious  of  the 
momentary  chill  in  Janet's  manner.  The  chill  was 
only  short-lived,  for,  at  heart,  the  girl  was  longing 
for  a  word  of  understanding,  longing  yet  more  for 
an  opportunity  to  talk  out  all  her  bitterness  down 
to  its  very  dregs,  to  pour  her  troubles  and  her  tired- 
ness and  her  irritation  into  a  sympathetic  ear.  More- 
over, she  knew  from  past  experience  that  Mrs.  Argyle 
was  always  quick  to  see  both  sides,  even  where  her 
own  children  were  concerned. 

"  After  all,  though,  Janet,"  Mrs.  Argyle  said  at 
last,  when  bit  by  bit  the  matter  had  been  talked  out 
between  them ;  "  it 's  my  impression  that,  both  as 
hostess  and  as  woman,  you  can't  very  well  get  on 


JANET  AT  ODDS  209 

without  an  apology  to  Jack.  I  see  your  side  of  it, 
dear  child:  that  you  were  tired  out  and  cross,  and 
that  now  and  then  we  Americans,  all  of  us,  are  a 
little  too  outspoken  as  to  what  we  think  of  things 
up  here.  Still,  the  fact  remains  that  you  were  rude, 
cuttingly  rude  to  a  guest  in  your  own  house." 

"  Jack  'a  not  my  guest,"  the  girl  mutinied  swiftly. 

"  What  is  he,  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  he  —  he  just  came.  I  supposed  you  asked 
him,  or  else  Day,"  Janet  said  vaguely. 

"  I  did  propose  it.  Still,  you  are  the  hostess,  in 
a  sense,  for  the  party  is  in  your  house."  Mrs.  Argyle 
let  a  little  pause  fall  before  her  next  words.  "  Be- 
sides that,  Jack  was  not  at  all  to  blame." 

Again  the  girl  mutinied. 

"  You  just  think  so,  Mrs.  Argyle,  because  you  like 
him." 

"  Don't  you,  Janet  ?  "    The  question  came  quietly. 

"  Yes,  sometimes.  Not  when  he  is  so  everlastingly 
smug,  though." 

"  Jack  is  n't  smug,  Janet."  Mrs.  Argyle  spoke 
with  quick  decision.  "  That  is  the  very  last  word 
to  apply  to  him." 

"  Not  smug,  exactly ;  but  I  do  wish,  just  now  and 
then,  he  would  distrust  himself  a  little." 

"  Why  should  he  ?    More  than  you,  or  I,  I  mean  ?  " 

Janet's  smile  spoke  volumes.  Her  reply,  though, 
was  short. 

"  I  think,  Mrs.  Argyle,  we  neither  of  us  need  to 
put  it  into  words,"  she  said. 

14 


210  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  I  think,  perhaps,  we  'd  better,"  Mrs.  Argyle  an- 
swered her.  "  We  've  gone  too  far  now,  Janet,  to 
be  able  to  dodge  the  point." 

"  I  'm  not  dodging,"  the  girl  replied  perversely. 
"  It  only  seems  rather  like  criticizing  you  to  say  it 
out.  Still,  if  I  must,  I  must.  It 's  only  this :  if  you 
choose  to  swallow  Jack  Blanchard  whole,  brass  but- 
tons and  all,  you  're  welcome.  I  can't  do  it." 

Rob  Argyle's  sense  of  humour  came  straight  from 
his  mother.  Now  she  struggled  bravely  to  down  the 
share  of  it  she  still  held  as  her  own,  for  Janet's  pic- 
ture was  vivid,  albeit  somewhat  sketchy.  Moreover, 
simply  as  Mrs.  Argyle  wyas  prone  to  take  her  social 
situation,  there  was  yet  something  approaching  the 
ludicrous,  to  her  mind,  in  Mrs.  John  Argyle's  having 
a  social  creed  dictated  to  her  by  a  girl  in  her  teens. 
A  glance  at  Janet's  face,  however,  showed  but  too 
plainly  that,  in  this  present  mood  of  perversity, 
neither  smiles  nor  arguments  would  avail  with  Janet. 
Mrs.  Argyle  was  too  wise  a  woman  to  waste  words 
in  a  discussion  that  could  only  end  in  increased  an- 
tagonism. Instead,  she  rose  and  faced  Janet,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand. 

"  Good  night,  child,"  she  said  quietly.  "  Have  a 
good  long  sleep,  and  you  '11  feel  rested  in  the  morn- 
ing." And,  bending,  she  kissed  the  passive,  unre- 
sponsive cheek. 

The  summary  close  of  the  discussion  led  to  a  sleep- 
less night.  The  sleepless  night  led,  next  day,  to 
apology.  Mrs.  Argyle's  peaceful  exit  had  left  Janet 


JANET  AT  ODDS  211 

with  no  one  in  range  to  fight  with  but  herself.  Her 
fighting  mood  was  still  upon  her  and,  lacking  any 
other  adversary,  she  took  it  out  upon  herself  with 
vigour.  She  went  to  bed,  feeling  herself  an  ill-used 
individual  against  whom  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
was  banded,  its  warpaint  on.  The  long,  quiet  hours 
of  darkness  brought  reflection ;  and  Janet  arose,  next 
morning,  somewhat  chastened.  She  still  believed  her- 
self ill-used;  but,  if  she  were  to  pose  as  candidate 
for  universal  sympathy,  she  must  see  to  it  that  her 
skirts  were  free  from  blame.  And  she  really  had 
been  somewhat  to  blame.  She  assured  herself  of 
that  in  the  intervals  of  wondering  why  Day  and 
Sidney  did  not  come  to  bed.  For  Mrs.  Argyle  had 
bidden  both  the  girls  to  share  her  room,  that  night, 
and  so  prevent  renewal  of  discussion. 

Janet  arose,  then,  after  long  hours  of  discussion 
with  herself  alone.  Lacking  an  adversary  to  state 
the  other  side  of  the  case,  her  own  side  strengthened. 
Persecuted,  misunderstood,  a  bit  ill-used,  she  yet  had 
been  much,  very  much  to  blame.  Her  first  duty, 
then,  was  to  annul  that  blame  by  offering  contrite 
apology.  With  that  end  in  view,  she  sought  out  Jack. 
A  good  deal  to  her  secret  annoyance,  he  did  not  in 
return  abase  himself  nearly  as  much  as  she  deemed 
fitting.  However,  the  tragedy  was  in  the  background, 
wiped  out  by  apology  and  courteous  penitence.  All 
but  Janet  proceeded  to  forget  the  matter  absolutely, 
as  one  forgets  the  indigestion  caused  by  last  week's 
over-feasting,  and  life  within  the  Leslie  house,  the 


212  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Prince  and  poodle  both  departed  and  the  pageants 
done,  took  up  its  normal  course  of  summer  idleness. 

It  was  quite  the  result  of  chance  that  the  Argyles 
went  away  for  a  few  days,  directly  after  the  tiffs 
and  tribulations  of  that  black  Monday.  An  old  school 
friend  of  Mrs.  Argyle,  unseen  for  more  than  twenty 
years,  was  summering  at  Lake  Massawippi.  She 
had  heard  that  Mrs.  Argyle  was  in  Quebec,  and  had 
written  to  demand  a  visit.  Mrs.  Argyle,  answering, 
had  begged  an  invitation  for  her  children  whom  she 
was  anxious  to  show  off  to  her  old  comrade.  The 
visit  was  to  last  for  ten  days.  Then  Mrs.  Argyle 
would  join  her  husband  at  Heatherleigh,  while  Rob 
and  Day  returned  to  finish  out  their  Canadian 
summer. 

Wade  had  already  gone,  and  the  announcement 
of  this  second  departure  caused  consternation  in  the 
little  group,  a  consternation  which  broke  out  into 
open  lamentations  on  the  part  of  Jack  who  saw 
them  off. 

"  Do  hurry  back,"  he  urged  forlornly,  as  he  left 
them  in  the  train.  "  Without  you,  we  '11  fall  into 
shreds  and  tatters  and,  what 's  worse,  we  '11  get  the 
shreds  and  tatters  into  no  end  of  a  snarl.  I  never 
thought  you  'd  bring  me  up  here  and  abandon 
me  like  this ;  and  I  've  a  grim  presentiment  that 
things  will  all  go  bad,  the  hour  your  backs  are 
turned." 

"  Not  with  Sidney,"  Day  assured  him  valiantly. 

He  shook  his  head. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  213 

"  Sidney  is  Sidney,  not  you,"  he  responded.  Then, 
smiling  bravely,  he  dropped  her  hand. 

Nevertheless,  he  stood  long  upon  the  platform, 
staring  after  the  empty  perspective  where  there  once 
had  been  a  vestibuled  doorway  framing  two  yellow 
heads ;  and,  when  at  last  he  turned  away  and  sought 
the  ferry,  his  heart  was  unreasoningly  heavy. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  he  missed  the  Argyles 
increasingly.  During  their  long  separations,  here- 
tofore, he  had  been  in  New  York,  and  busy.  Now, 
idle  and  lacking  them,  he  missed  them  to  a  curious 
extent,  missed  them  in  ways  that  the  others  were 
powerless  to  make  good.  Strange  to  say,  no  one  so 
filled  the  emptiness  around  him  as  did  Paul.  This 
was  by  no  means  merely  because  Paul's  was  the  only 
other  masculine  point  of  view  in  the  diminished 
house-party;  but  because  Paul's  nature,  albeit  far 
more  boisterous,  yet  held  the  same  elements  of  big- 
hearted  kindliness  as  did  Jack's  own.  Little  by  little, 
then,  they  two  drifted  into  a  sort  of  intimacy,  talk- 
ing together  in  one  room  or  the  other  until  late  at 
night,  exchanging  experiences  and  digesting  each 
other's  opinions  on  whatever  question  the  day  had 
brought  forth.  All  in  all,  despite  the  seven-year 
separation  in  their  ages,  the  opinions  varied  far  less 
than  did  the  experiences  which  had  gone  to  form 
them,  and,  night  after  night,  they  parted  .  better 
friends  than  they  had  been,  the  night  before.  Irre- 
sponsible in  his  hilarity,  totally  unsuppressible  in  his 
slang  and  quaint  conceits,  Paul  was  showing  his  true 


214  JANET  AT  ODDS 

self  to  Jack  in  those  long  talks,  and  the  true  self  was 
winning  even  conservative  Jack's  approval. 

Their  talks  ranged  over  all  subjects  upon  the  earth, 
under  the  heavens  and  beneath  the  Leslie  roof,  so  it 
was  no  especial  wonder  that  now  and  then  they 
touched  upon  Janet.  Jack  was  forgiving,  Paul  loyal ; 
yet  neither  one  of  them  could  deny  that  Janet  was 
still  upon  her  dignity,  and  that  that  dignity  was  still 
a  little  bit  aggrieved.  Curiously  enough,  the  girl  was 
taking  her  grievance  out  upon  the  other  girls  who, 
all  but  Day,  had  been  silent  spectators  of  the  little 
fray.  Paul  was  avowedly  her  champion.  She  had 
avowedly  made  her  peace  with  Jack.  Under  all  these 
conditions,  she  was  tacitly  pledged  to  friendship  with 
them;  and,  feeling  the  need  for  manifesting  her 
displeasure  with  things  in  general  upon  some  one  in 
particular,  she  chose  the  Amys,  Sidney  and  Irene 
as  her  especial  objects.  There  was  no  open  friction, 
but  something  infinitely  worse,  a  sense  of  general 
discomfort,  like  the  heavy  oppression  which  goes 
before  a  thunder  shower  in  the  next  township. 

Among  themselves,  the  girls  discussed  it  in  moods 
varying  from  merriment  to  hot,  hot  wrath.  The  two 
Amys  were  for  packing  their  trunks  and  taking  the 
first  train  for  home;  but  Irene,  and,  still  more 
strongly,  Sidney  counselled  patience.  A  break-up  now 
would  lead  to  a  permanent  breach.  Janet's  moods 
were  never  very  lasting.  Once  she  came  out  of  them, 
she  was  prompt  to  see  and  admit  their  absurdity. 
Besides,  after  all,  they  really  were  not  guests,  in 


JANET  AT  ODDS  215 

the  strictest  sense  of  the  word.  And  besides  again, 
the  Argyles  would  be  back,  next  week.  IBest  wait 
for  them,  and  then  with  them  discuss  the  matter 
fully.  From  all  accounts,  they  had  seen  Janet  before 
under  similar  conditions.  Moreover,  they  were  the 
instigators  of  the  whole  party;  as  a  mere  matter  of 
courtesy  to  them,  the  party  could  not  be  allowed  to 
break  up  in  their  temporary  absence. 

And,  meanwhile,  more  and  more  the  four  girls 
were  left  to  themselves  to  talk  the  matter  over. 
Janet  was  showing  an  increased  desire  for  the  society 
of  Gladys  Horth;  and  into  that  society,  willy-nilly, 
she  dragged  with  her  Paul  and  Jack. 

The  Argyles  had  gone  away,  on  Friday,  the  day 
of  the  last  pageant.  On  Wednesday  of  the  follow- 
ing week,  this  cheery  state  of  things  was  still  in 
evidence,  in  evidence  and,  Sidney  confessed  to  her- 
self with  grim  forebodings,  rapidly  becoming  worse. 
The  four  girls  had  taken  themselves  to  Saint  Joachin 
for  the  day.  The  plan  had  developed  suddenly  in 
the  fertile  brain  of  Amy  Pope,  when,  the  night  be- 
fore, Janet  had  chanced  to  mention  that  Gladys  and 
she,  with  Paul  and  Jack,  were  going  up  the  river  to 
visit  the  year-old  ruins  of  the  fallen  bridge. 

Gladys  lunched  at  the  Leslie  house,  that  day. 
Directly  after  luncheon,  they  started  off,  to  all  seem- 
ing the  most  jovial  of  quartettes,  for  the  day  was 
fine,  the  luncheon  had  been  hilarious  and  the  expedi- 
tion promised  something  on  the  score  of  novelty. 
Jack  and  Gladys  were  in  the  lead,  as  often  happened 


216  JANET  AT  ODDS 

in  those  days;  but  Paul  and  Janet  were  so  close 
behind  as  to  overhear  their  talk,  overhear,  too,  a 
wholly  unexpected  greeting  that  met  Jack  on  the 
Breakneck  Stairs. 

"  Mist'  Blanchard !  Glad  to  see  yuh,  suh !  Yuh 
lookin'  fine." 

•  For  one  instant,  Jack  stared  blankly  at  the  sable, 
grinning  face.  Then  he  held  out  his  'hand. 

"  Norman !  I  'm  glad  to  see  you.  How  have  you 
been,  all  these  years  ?  And  are  you  still  on  the  same 
old  run?" 

Gladys,  hearing,  looked  horrified,  mystified,  sus- 
picious; but  Janet,  after  one  glance  at  Jack  and 
the  negro,  clasping  hands  in  welcome,  another  glance 
at  Gladys,  had  turned  scarlet,  then  grown  very  white. 

"  Come,"  she  said  shortly ;  "  we  'd  best  go  on,  and 
let  him  'overtake  us." 

But  Paul,  interested  and  amused  and  totally  un- 
moved by  what  seemed  to  him  a  bit  of  comedy,  uttered 
a  protest. 

"  No  hurry.     We  Ve  any  amount  of  time." 

But  Janet,  still  white  and  unaccountably  nervous, 
hastened  down  the  steps  at  such  a  pace  that  they 
were  half  way  to  the  wharf,  before  Jack  overtook 
them. 

"  Norman  was  a  capital  chap,"  he  remarked  un- 
concernedly ;  "  altogether  the  best  porter  I  ever  had." 

"  Porter  ? "  Gladys  echoed,  and  the  question,  al- 
though brief,  was  in  italics. 

Jack's  unconcern  decreased  no  whit.    In  fact,  there 


JANET  AT  ODDS  217 

was  no  reason  that  it  should.  To  his  downright 
mind,  he  had  nothing  to  conceal. 

"  Yes.  He  was  porter  on  my  old  run  to  Spring- 
field. We  were  together,  all  one  winter,  and  he  never 
once  shirked  in  all  that  time,  took  the  best  possible  care 
of  his  car,  and  his  passengers,  and  even,"  he  laughed, 
as  at  some  sudden  recollection ;  "  even  his  conductor." 

Gladys  flashed  one  glance  at  Janet.  Then  she 
queried  sweetly,  — 

"  How  long  since  you  had  seetf  him,  Mr.  Blan- 
chard?" 

Jack  stuck  his  fists  into  his  pockets,  and  consid- 
ered. He  looked  a  veritable  boy,  as  he  tramped  on 
beside  the  pretty  young  Canadian,  for  the  unex- 
pected meeting  had  brought  with  it  all  sorts  of  merry 
memories  of  what  had  really  been  a  hard-working  past. 
The  hard  work  was  all  forgotten  now,  however; 
there  only  lingered  the  thought  of  the  occasional 
good  times,  the  hearty  liking  of  his  old  companions, 
the  loyalty  of  his  many  porters,  the  favourite  of 
whom  had  but  just  now  gone  on  up  the  stairs. 
After  the  sultry  atmosphere  of  the  past  few  days 
inside  the  Leslie  house,  all  this  came  back  to  Jack 
like  a  long-wished-for  whiff  of  ozone.  Face  and 
bearing  betrayed  the  exhilaration  it  had  brought  to 
him,  an  exhilaration  which  added  ten-fold  to  his 
attractiveness.  And,  by  his  side,  the  pretty  young 
Canadian  felt  the  attraction,  felt  it  could  atone  for 
certain  other  things  —  almost.  Not  quite,  however. 

But  Jack  had  finished  counting  time. 


218  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Three  years,"  he  said.  "  No,  by  Jove !  It 's 
four.  It  does  n't  seem  so  long  as  that,  since  I  went 
off  the  run." 

Gladys  made  careless  assent. 

"  Four  years  ?  The  man  must  have  a  good  mem- 
ory; or  else,  you  must  have  made  a  strong  impres- 
sion." Then,  smiling  still,  she  turned  to  Janet. 
"  But,  Janet,"  she  said,  speaking  quite  slowly  and 
distinctly ;  "  I  was  sure  you  told  me  —  " 

Purposely  she  allowed  her  sentence  to  die  away, 
unended.  Gladys  Horth  might  be  outspoken,  might 
be  a  little  too  conservative  in  drawing  her  social 
lines.  Nevertheless,  it  would  have  been  quite  un- 
thinkable to  her,  the  needless  wounding  of  any  man, 
least  of  all,  such  a  man  as  Jack  Blanchard  had 
proved  himself  to  be.  For  Gladys  Horth,  knowing 
Jack  better,  liked  him  unfeignedly,  however  regret- 
table she  regarded  certain  aspects  of  his  past  existence. 

Bravely,  defiantly  Janet  sought  to  meet  the  eyes 
of  Gladys ;  but  her  glance  wavered,  fell,  then  turned 
away,  while  once  again  her  colour  changed  to  dark, 
dark  red  and  then  to  ashy  white.  An  instant  later, 
she  gave  a  queer,  smothered  little  laugh,  and,  step- 
ping forward,  caught  Jack  by  the  sleeve. 

"  Come,  Jack,  do  hurry ;  we  're  going  to  miss  the 
boat,"  she  said,  with  a  forced  briskness. 

But,  as  she  spoke,  her  eyes,  shifting  uneasily,  met 
the  gray,  steady  eyes  of  Paul ;  and  Paul's  gaze  was 
perplexed,  full  of  trouble. 


CHAPTEE    SIXTEEN 

OTJITE  naturally,  Paul  sought  Sidney  out,  that 
night,  told  her  of  the  little  scene,  and  de- 
manded explanation.  Paul,  like  most  boys,  hated 
gossip.  Still,  Sidney  was  his  cousin,  and  it  was 
never  really  gossip  to  talk  things  over  with  one's 
cousin.  Moreover,  he  felt  the  situation  needed  to  be 
explained.  The  sweetness  of  Gladys,  all  that  after- 
noon, had  been  no  less  ominous  of  ill  than  was  Janet's 
evident  abstraction.  Thanks  to  Jack's  complete  un- 
consciousness of  any  cause  for  a  situation,  the  after- 
noon had  passed  off  with  apparent  smoothness.  Still, 
to  Paul's  watchful  eye,  it  was  manifest  that  the  two 
girls  were  only  waiting  to  be  alone  together,  in  order 
to  say  Things  to  each  other.  Lacking  all  clue  to  the 
mystery  which  seemed  surrounding  him,  Paul  was 
conscious  of  a  masculine  curiosity  to  know  what  it 
was  those  Things  would  be. 

When  Sidney  did  supply  the  clue,  Paul's  disgust 
knew  no  bounds.  By  birth,  by  home  training,  and 
by  his  school  and  college  life,  Paul  Addison  had 
been  nourished  in  too  wholesome  an  atmosphere  to 
have  much  sympathy  for  the  reported  strictures  of 
Gladys  Horth.  His  own  early  utterances  of  similar 
import  had  been  made  half  in  jest;  they  had  been 
repented  entirely,  once  he  had  come  into  real  con- 


220  JANET  AT  ODDS 

tact  with  Jack.  Moreover,  lacking  sympathy  with 
Gladys,  he  also  lacked  all  toleration  for  Janet's  in- 
tentional deception,  and  his  gray  eyes  blazed  angrily, 
the  while  he  listened. 

"  The  blasted  little  sneak !  "  he  burst  out  hotly,  as 
soon  as  Sidney  paused  in  the  story  which,  of  set 
purpose,  she  had  softened  all  she  could. 

"  Don't  be  too  hard  on  her,  Paul,"  she  begged 
him. 

"  I  could  n't.  She  deserves  every  bit  she  's  get- 
ting," he  returned  a  little  roughly,  for  his  boyish 
code  of  honour  included  even  certain  reservations 
among  lies.  "  I  hate  a  liar,  and  I  hate  a  snob,  and 
I  hate  a  sneak;  and  she's  all  three." 

Sidney's  face  was  full  of  trouble;  but  Paul  was 
far  too  angry  now  to  heed.  In  fact,  his  anger 
mounted,  as  he  grasped  the  details  involved  in  the 
affair. 

"  Do  you  realize,"  he  demanded  suddenly,  as  he 
turned  on  Sidney  with  a  savageness  he  might  have 
shown  the  culprit ;  "  that,  all  this  summer  long,  she 
has  been  calling  herself  friends  with  Jack,  going  on 
from  day  to  day,  letting  him  trust  her  and  talk  to 
her  and  about  her  as  a  friend;  has  been  letting  his 
mother  play  propriety  for  us  all,  and,  all  this  very 
time,  has  been  ashamed  to  acknowledge  the  fellow 
for  what  he  really  is?  Sidney,  it  makes  me  — " 
No  word  seemed  strong  enough  for  him.  Silently 
he  ran  his  fingers  through  his  short,  thick  hair  until, 
as  once  more  he  turned  to  face  her,  it  stood  wildly 


JANET  AT  ODDS  221 

erect,  a  stubby  halo  around  his  flushed  and  freckled 
face. 

However,  girls  at  best  are  never  very  logical.  In 
theory,  Sidney  demanded  careful  grooming  of  her 
friends.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  her  cousin  in  his  even- 
ing state  array  had  never  been  so  dear  to  her,  never 
so  absolutely  likable  as  now  when,  his  collar  slowly 
wilting  and  his  hair  in  tousled  spikes,  he  faced  her, 
red  with  anger  upon  Jack's  behalf.  None  the  less, 
according  to  her  code  which  demanded  the  defence 
of  any  girl  to  any  boy,  she  sought  to  allay  his 
wrath. 

"  Remember,  Paul,"  she  bade  him ;  "  that  you  don't 
quite  get  Janet's  point  of  view." 

"  Do  you,  Tids  ?  "  he  questioned  hotly. 

"  Not  exactly,"  Sidney  made  confession.  "  We 
can't,  you  know,  you  and  I.  We  're  Americans,  in 
the  first  place,  and  the  lines  we  draw  don't  fit  into 
theirs.  Besides,  your  mother  and  my  father  are  just 
about  alike.  They  both  of  them  have  taught  us  what 
the  things  are  that  really,  truly  count." 

Paul  swung  around  on  his  heel  and  stalked  to  the 
window. 

"  I  should  hope  they  had,"  he  answered  then.  "  I 
hate  the  ground  she  takes,  Tids,  hate  it  like  poison. 
Still,  I  could  forgive  all  that,  if  she  hadn't  lied  to 
Gladys." 

"  She  did  n't  really  lie,"  Sidney  reminded  him. 

"  Really,  she  did !  "  And  as,  reversing  her  accent, 
Paul  flung  her  own  words  back  at  her,  Sidney  felt 


222  JANET  AT  ODDS 

another,  stronger  throb  of  pride  at  owning  such  a 
cousin. 

There  came  a  pause.     Then,  — 

"  Do  the  Argyles  know  ? "  Paul  asked  at  length. 

Sidney  looked  up,  and  there  came  into  her  voice 
a  note  of  dignity  which  matched  his  of  the  moment 
before. 

"  The  mischief  was  done,  before  I  knew  it,"  she 
answered.  "  I  was  too  late  to  help  it ;  but,  at  least, 
I  could  help  their  knowing  it  had  happened.  There 
was  no  need  for  them  to  know.  It  would  have  been 
hurting  them  for  nothing;  and  they  never,  never 
would  have  forgiven  Janet." 

"  The  others  know  ?  " 

"  The  girls  ?  Yes.  We  all  were  there,  when  Janet 
told  us." 

Paul  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  She  told  you  ?    Told  you,  herself  ?  " 

Then  the  first  note  of  bitterness  came  into  Sidney's 
voice. 

"  Yes.  She  appeared  to  think  she  had  done  rather 
a  clever  thing." 

"  Oh !  "  Paul  on^ce  more  fell  silent  for  a  space. 
When  at  last  he  spoke,  his  voice  had  lost  all  its  ani- 
mation. "  Well,"  he  said  slowly ;  "  party  's  over, 
mischief  's  made.  Tids,  what 's  doing  next  ?  To 
make  the  best  of  it,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  Just  that,"  Sidney  told  him  gravely ;  "  make  the 
best  of  it,  and  say  as  little  about  it  as  possible.  I  '11 
tell  the  other  girls,  to-night,  and  warn  them  to  keep 


JANET  AT  ODDS  223 

still.  Mercifully,  Rob  and  Day  are  n't  here.  Maybe 
we  can  keep  it  from  them  altogether." 

"  Unless  it  leads  to  bitter  complications,"  Paul 
suggested.  "  Mrs.  Blanchard  is  nothing  but  a  mole ; 
she  '11  never  catch  on  to  anything.  Meanwhile,  though, 
what  about  Jack  himself  ?  " 

But,  meanwhile,  Jack  himself  was  the  most  uncon- 
cerned member  of  all  the  little  party.  This  fact  was 
made  evident,  next  morning  at  breakfast,  when  Paul 
was  glum  and  silent,  Janet  nervously  pugnacious,  and 
the  other  girls  voluble  in  their  anxiety  to  forestall 
an  awkward  situation.  Jack  alone  talked  on  accord- 
ing to  his  wonted  steady  fashion.  Then,  as  he  rose 
from  the  table,  he  turned  to  his  mother. 

"  I  'm  so  sorry  I  can't  go  out  with  you,  this  morn- 
ing," he  said  regretfully ;  "  but  Norman  told  me, 
yesterday,  that  Savarin  was  down  on  his  luck,  ill  or 
something.  He  was  the  French  fellow  who  used  to 
alternate  the  run  with  me,  the  best  little  chap  that 
ever  lived,  and  always  doing  me  a  good  turn.  I  think 
I  '11  look  him  up,  this  morning.  He  's  down  at  the 
Jeffrey  Hale,  and,  from  what  Norman  told  me,  rather 
forlorn."  And,  totally  unaware  that  he  had  cast  a 
stone  into  the  pool  on  which  the  four  girls  had  been 
busy  pouring  oil,  he  nodded  his  farewells  and  went 
striding  away  out  of  the  house. 

Jack  gone,  Janet  shut  up  in  the  library  with 
Gladys  Horth,  and  Paul  in  the  dumps,  the  morning 
dragged  perceptibly.  The  drag  was  by  no  means 
lessened  by  Jack's  telephoning  up  at  noon  that  he 


224  JANET  AT  ODDS 

had  been  detained  by  business,  and  would  not  be 
home  to  luncheon.  It  was  late  afternoon,  when  he 
did  appear,  so  late  that  Janet  was  just  wondering 
whether  she  might  as  well  not  ring  for  Elsie  to  take 
away  the  tray.  Moreover,  when  he  came,  he  was 
too  much  absorbed  in  other  things  to  care  for  tea. 

"  Give  an  account  of  yourself,  you  truant,"  Amy 
Browne  demanded  gayly,  as  he  crossed  the  threshold, 
for,  during  the  past  three  winters  in  New  York,  she 
and  Jack  had  grown  to  be  excellent  friends. 

His  nod  and  smile  were  at  Amy;  but  his  words 
were  for  Janet. 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  be  so  beastly  late,"  he  said  con- 
tritely. "  I  had  no  idea  how  the  time  was  going. 
Don't  keep  the  tray  for  me.  I  was  late  about  my 
lunch.  Besides,  I  've  been  too  busy  to  care  much 
about  tea." 

Deliberately  Janet  filled  his  cup,  dropping  in  the 
proper  number  of  lumps  with  the  unquestioning  pre- 
cision on  which  she  prided  herself  so  much.  Then 
she  offered  him  the  cup. 

"  You  found  your  friend  ?  "  she  asked,  and  her 
interest  was  plainly  perfunctory,  as  of  one  who 
washed  her  hands  completely  of  any  share  in  the 
answer. 

Jack  stirred  his  tea. 

"  Yes,  poor  little  chap !  "  he  said  slowly.  "  It 's 
worse  than  I  supposed.  He  is  down  with  enteric. 
They  say  the  city  's  full  of  it." 

"  Really  ?     I  had  n't  heard."     Again  Janet  spoke 


JANET  AT  ODDS  225 

with  courteous  remoteness,  just  as  she  might  have 
spoken  to  Tolstoi,  or  Count  Okuma,  or  to  Mary 
Browne's  fourth  cousin  once  removed. 

"  It 's  mainly  in  one  quarter ;  they  're  tracing  it 
to  an  old  well  they  tapped,  the  day  the  main  burst, 
two  weeks  ago.  So  they  told  me  at  the  hospital,  that 
is.  Anyway,  it 's  caught  poor  Savarin."  Then  he 
turned  to  Sidney.  "  You  may  remember  him,  a  little 
brown-haired  chap  in  glasses.  He  took  you  up,  that 
first  summer  you  were  here.  I  know,  for  he  remem- 
bered Bungay." 

Sidney  shook  her  head;  but  her  denial  was  far 
more  personal  and  full  of  interest  than  Janet's 
questions. 

"Is  he  very  ill?" 

"  No ;  not  so  very.  He  's  a  good  deal  uncomfort- 
able, and  more  worried.  I  can't  say  I  wonder,  though. 
Since  I  've  seen  him,  the  fellow  's  married ;  he  has 
a  wife  and  baby,  somewhere  in  the  Townships. 
There  's  nobody  else  to  look  out  for  them,  and  the 
people  at  the  hospital  tell  me  he  is  in  for  a  long 
pull."  And  Jack  fell  silent,  fell,  too,  to  stirring  his 
untasted,  cooling  tea. 

Sidney  watched  him  intently  for  a  minute  or  two. 
Watching,  she  was  quite  well  aware  that  Jack  had 
something  on  his  mind;  that  his  story  was  by  no 
means  all  told ;  moreover,  that  the  final  chapter,  yet 
untold,  was  bound  to  be  the  most  important  one  of 
all.  Scenting  a  possible  crisis,  her  mind  leaped  this 
way  and  that  to  discover  the  direction  whence  it  was 

15 


226  JANET  AT  ODDS 


to  come.  Then  she  gave  it  up,  unable  to  fathom  the 
working  of  Jack's  mind.  She  gave  it  up ;  but  she 
prayed  secretly  that  Jack,  with  masculine  obtuseness, 
might  not  have  blundered  upon  any  plan  fated  to 
antagonize  Janet  still  more.  And,  meanwhile,  Janet 
sat  and  smiled  inscrutably  at  the  tea-pot. 

At  last  Jack  lifted  his  eyes,  such  honest,  steady 
eyes,  so  true  and  kindly,  and  swept  them  around  the 
little  group.  He  saw  Janet's  inscrutable  smile,  his 
mother's  adoring  gaze,  the  friendly  faces  of  the 
Amys  and  Irene;  then  he  looked  back  to  Sidney. 
She  always  understood.  To  her,  accordingly,  he  ad- 
dressed the  final  chapter  of  his  story. 

"  You  see,"  he  blurted  out,  unaccountably  embar- 
rassed at  finding  himself  the  centre  of  so  much  at- 
tention, especially  when  he  had  a  tale  of  such  sort 
to  tell ;  "  it  really  is  hard  on  the  chap.  He  has 
nothing  at  all  but  his  salary,  and  that 's  mighty  little, 
as  we  know.  Eh,  mother?  And  the  nurse  tells  me 
he  's  down  for  at  least  six  weeks ;  that  is,  until  he  's 
fit  to  run  again.  All  that  time,  you  see,  he  's  got 
to  lie  out  of  his  salary,  even  if  he  keeps  his  place." 

Amy  Pope  sat  bending  forward,  her  hands  clasped 
loosely  around  her  knees,  her  eyes  on  Jack's  face. 

"  I  see,"  she  assented,  as  he  paused.  "  You  mean 
he  's  ill  and  will  have  to  hire  a  substitute ;  the  sub- 
stitute will  have  to  have  his  salary;  and,  in  the 
meantime,  his  wife  and  baby  will  have  nothing  at 
all  to  live  upon." 

"  Exactly."     Jack's  eyes  left  Sidney's  face  and 


JANET  AT  ODDS  227 

went  to  rest  on  Amy.  It  was  not  the  first  time,  by 
any  means,  that  he  had  been  roused  to  honest  admira- 
tion for  this  keen-witted,  outspoken  girl.  Now,  all 
at  once,  he  determined  to  throw  his  plan  into  her 
hands  and  see  if  she  would  rise  to  its  defence.  "  Ex- 
actly," he  repeated ;  "  and  so,  to  help  him  on  what 
I  can,  I  'm  going  to  take  his  run  for  him,  the  next 
week  or  so,  without  salary,  of  course.  It 's  not  much ; 
but  —  " 

With  a  bounce,  Amy  Pope  slid  forward  to  the 
extreme  edge  of  her  chair,  where  she  sat  erect. 

"  Jack !  You  dear,  magnificent  old  trump !  "  she 
burst  out  breathlessly.  "  If  that  is  n't  just  exactly 
like  you !  " 

Before  Jack  could  make  reply,  Janet's  voice  had 
cut  across  the  silence,  low,  but  with  a  hard,  rasping 
little  note  vibrating  in  it. 

"  Have  you  consulted  Mr.  Argyle  about  this  — 
this  plan  of  yours  ? "  she  asked. 

Amy  Pope  turned  upon  her  sharply. 

"  What  utter  nonsense,  Janet !  Why  in  the  world 
should  he  ?  It 's  his  vacation." 

But  -already  Jack  was  answering. 

"  I  telephoned  him,  this  noon.  That  was  what  kept 
me  out  so  long,  waiting  to  get  a  clear  wire." 

"  And  ?  "  Janet  asked  crisply. 

Jack's  laugh  was  jovial,  for,  now  that  his  story 
.was  out,  the  fun  of  the  whole  adventure  came  rush- 
ing back  to  him. 

"  He  told  me  to  go  ahead,  and  take  his  blessing, 


228  JANET  AT  ODDS 


while  I  did  it,"  he  made  contented  answer.  "  I 
knew  my  asking  him  was  bound  to  be  nothing  but 
a  mere  matter  of  form;  he  was  sure  to  approve." 

Once  more  Janet  spoke  crisply. 

"  I  am  glad  Mr.  Argyle  is  so  broad-minded.  How- 
ever, there  are  others  who  may  not  share  his  views." 
And,  rising,  she  rang  for  Elsie  sharply;  then  she 
faced  about  without  another  word,  and  left  the  room. 

Out  of  the  silence  which  followed  her  going,  Mrs. 
Blanchard  spoke. 

"  My  son,"  she  asked,  with  gentle  gravity ;  "  are 
you  sure  you  've  done  a  wise  thing  ?  " 

Jack  faced  her,  saw  the  trouble  in  her  eyes,  the 
anxious  pucker  in  her  brow.  Crossing  the  room  to 
seat  himself  on  the  arm  of  her  chair,  he  flung  his 
arm  across  her  shoulders. 

"  I  know  I  have  done  the  only  thing,  Mother,"  he 
told  her,  with  a  quiet  decision  she  could  not  dispute. 
"  It  'a  not  a  case  for  wisdom ;  it 's  just  simple  human- 
ity. The  fellow  used  to  be  my  friend,  has  done  me 
many  and  many  a  good  turn,  when  we  were  working 
side  by  side.  Now  he  is  knocked  out;  the  worry 
about  the  mere  money  end  of  things  would  only 
make  him  worse.  And  here  am  I  up  here  on  the 
spot,  knowing  his  run  from  end  to  end,  and  not  a 
thing  in  the  world  to  do!  Really,  I  couldn't  help 
myself." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  he  asked  it  of  you  ? "  Mrs. 
Blanchard  inquired  a  little  severely. 

Apparently  unmoved  by  his  mother's  disapproval, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  229 

Jack  laughed  at  the  suggestion,  and  his  laugh  was 
good  to  hear. 

"  Asked  me !  The  fellow  nearly  had  a  fit,  when 
I  went  back  and  told  him  I  'd  clinched  all  the  ar- 
rangements, down  to  borrowing  a  misfit  uniform." 

Curiously  enough,  the  mention  of  the  uniform 
was  the  final  straw  in  the  old  lady's  burden. 

"  Jack !  "  she  lamented.  "  You  don't  mean  you 
will  put  on  a  uniform  again  ? " 

"  Of  course.  Why  not  ? "  And  Jack's  arm 
dropped,  while  he  stared  at  her  in  complete  surprise, 
for  now  and  then  his  nature  showed  itself  too  large 
to  take  the  measure  of  his  mother's  petty  whims. 

As  if  in  despair,  she  clasped  her  lace-frilled  hands 
in  her  black-silk  lap,  and  shook  her  head. 

"  You  really  can't,"  she  said  plaintively.  "  I 
think  I  could  n't  bear  it,  if  you  did." 

"  But  why  ? "  he  urged  her,  bending  down  to  pat 
her  cheek. 

"  Because  it  —  it  —  it  is  n't  —  gentlemanly,"  she 
faltered.  And  then  she  sought  her  handkerchief, 
and,  a  little  later,  sought  her  room. 

Jack  saw  her  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs;  then  he 
returned  to  the  waiting  group,  closed  the  door  and 
stood  at  bay. 

"  Next  ?  "  he  said,  as  lightly  as  he  could ;  but  his 
kind  brown  eyes  were  grave  and  troubled. 

Sidney  rose  and  crossed  the  floor  to  join  him. 

"  You  poor  old  boy !  But  don't  go  and  get  your- 
self worried,"  she  besought  him.  "  Things  do  look 


230  JANET  AT  ODDS 

a  little  snarly,  I  confess;  but  come  and  sit  down 
and  take  it  easy,  while  we  try  to  straighten  them 
out." 

For  a  moment  more,  they  stood  there,  he  in  dis- 
turbed anxiety,  she  tall,  lithe  and  earnest,  smiling 
into  his  dejected  eyes.  Then  Jack  yielded  to  her 
smile,  threw  back  his  shoulders  and  crossed  the  room 
to  take  the  unoccupied  sofa  corner  at  her  side. 

In  the  end,  the  two  chief  dissenting  voices  being 
absent,  the  talk  resolved  itself  into  a  discussion  of 
the  grounds  of  their  dissent.  It  was  Jack  himself 
who  opened  the  discussion. 

"  How  could  I  know  she  'd  object  ?  "  he  queried 
of  the  carpet,  and  the  four  girls,  listening,  knew  by 
instinct  that  his  question  referred,  not  to  his  mother, 
but  to  Janet  Leslie. 

Amy  Pope  sought  to  turn  the  question  to  a  joke. 

"  Janet  always  leads  the  opposition,"  she  said 
lightly.  "  She  's  a  born  conservative." 

But  Irene,  reading  in  Jack's  eyes  that  he  was 
in  no  mood  for  joking,  took  another  ground  of 
explanation. 

"  After  all,  you  know,  you  men  are  such  rash 
beings  that  now  and  then  you  do  put  us  hostesses 
into  hot  water,"  she  chid  him.  "  No  one  knows 
what  plans  Janet  may  have  been  making  for  this 
next  week.  You  probably  have  upset  them  all,  and 
that 's  the  reason  your  own  pet  scheme  has  called 
down  her  wrath." 

Irene  spoke  guardedly,  yet  with  the  hope  that  Jack 


JANET  AT  ODDS  231 

might  accept  her  explanation  as  the  true  one,  and 
the  trouble  yet  blow  over.  Sidney,  however,  knew 
both  Jack  and  Janet  far  better  than  Irene  did. 
Knowing  them  both,  she  felt  that  the  only  safe  course 
lay  in  speaking  out  directly.  Evasions  would  only 
lead  to  further  and  more  complex  misunderstandings. 
None  the  less,  it  would  be  hard  to  speak  out  and  run 
the  risk  of  hurting  Jack.  Still,  it  must  be  done.  She 
turned  to  face  him  bravely. 

"  There  is  no  especial  use  in  beating  about  the 
bush,  Jack,"  she  said  quietly.  "  Whatever  we  may 
say,  we  know  it 's  Janet's  social  nerves  that  are  on 
edge." 

He  nodded  gravely. 

"  I  know.    In  a  way,  my  mother  feels  it,  too." 

"  Yes.  She  showed  she  did.  She  belongs  to  an 
older  generation,  when  such  things  counted  more. 
As  for  Janet,  she  's  a  Canadian,  and  —  " 

"  So  am  I,"  he  interrupted. 

"  Yes ;  but  you  're  a  man,  and  don't  stop  to  fuss 
about  such  pernickety  little  trifles."  It  was  Paul  now 
who  was  blazing  away  from  his  corner,  quite  regard- 
less of  the  fact  that,  once  on  a  time,  he  too  had 
fussed. 

Slowly,  regretfully  Sidney  shook  her  head. 

"  It 's  not  altogether  pernickety,  Paul.  And  be- 
sides, it 's  only  fair  to  see  Janet's  side,  especially 
now  that  she  is  n't  here  to  show  it  off,  herself.  Janet 
is  as  fond  of  Jack  as  any  of  us  are  —  " 

"  Doubted !  "   Amy  Browne  put  in  hastily,    and 


232  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Jack  forgot  his  trouble  long  enough  to  fling  her  an 
answering  smile. 

"  Yes,  Janet  is  really  loyal  to  Jack ;  loyal,  that 
is,  as  she  counts  loyalty,"  Sidney  corrected  hastily, 
in  deference  to  the  dissenting  murmur  that  arose 
around  her.  "  Still,  we  must  remember  that  she  's 
been  brought  up  inside  some  strict  traditions.  What 
did  you  say,  Paul  ?  " 

"  Time  she  kicked  them  over  and  climbed  out,"  he 
growled.  Then,  coming  out  of  his  corner,  he  faced 
them,  frowning  and  his  fists  in  his  side  pockets. 
"  Oh,  go  to  thunder,  Tids !  You  take  too  long.  Now 
look  here,  you  fellows,"  he  said  swiftly ;  "  you  listen 
to  man-talk.  I  agree  with  Tids;  but  she  takes  too 
many  words  to  say  her  piece.  Janet  is  a  snob,  born 
so,  trained  so.  She 's  not  to  blame ;  but  she 's  a 
beastly  little  snob,  all  same.  I  like  Janet;  as  long 
as  I  could,  I  fought  for  her.  Now  I  '11  be  hanged, 
chivalry  or  no  chivalry,  if  I  '11  fight  for  any  girl 
that  lies.  As  for  Blanchard,  he  is  victim  of  a  plot 
that  circumstances  have  hatched  up.  Being  the  fel- 
low he  is,  he  could  n't  help  taking  the  place  of  an 
old  friend  who  was  knocked  out.  I  'd  have  despised 
him,  if  he  had.  So  far,  we  all  agree.  But  the  rock 
Janet  split  on,  the  rock  we  every  mother's  son  of 
us  are  shying  at  now  is  this:  as  a  rule,  we  don't 
chum  around  with  fellows  that  run  on  trains.  Jack 
is  an  exception,  and  there  's, enough  of  him,  himself, 
to  make  the  exception  count.  As  long  as  he  's  Jack 
Blanchard,  we  can't  get  on  without  him,  whether  he 


JANET  AT  ODDS  233 

stokes,  or  grinds  the  handle  of  a  brake."  He  paused 
for  breath.  Then,  blushing  furiously,  he  swung 
around  to  Jack.  "  I  say,  old  man,"  he  added ;  "  I 
hope  you  won't  think  I  'm  quite  a  brute.  The  thing 
has  been  inside  us,  all  along,  inside  you,  too,  and  I 
thought  it  was  about  time  we  had  it  out  and  done 
with." 

So  downright  had  been  Paul's  manner,  so  kindly 
and  so  free  from  any  hint  of  apology  that  Jack's 
steady  eyes  never  wavered,  and  now  they  looked  back 
at  him  without  a  trace  of  hurt.  Before  Jack  could 
speak,  however,  Amy  Pope  had  bounced  to  her  feet 
and  seized  Paul's  hand. 

"  Good  for  you,  Paul !  You  've  said  it  out  at 
last.  Moreover,  for  my  part,  I  can  say  that,  as  long 
as  he  stays  Jack  Blanchard  and  my  friend,  he  's 
welcome  to  chop  wood,  or  grind  a  hand  organ."  And, 
turning,  she  held  out  her  other  hand  to  Jack.  "Jack," 
she  said  impulsively ;  "  I  think  you  're  splendid,  and 
I  'm  glad  you  've  done  it." 

And  Jack,  looking  at  his  two  champions,  the  sturdy, 
honest  boy,  the  enthusiastic  young  girl  in  her  dainty 
frills  and  furbelows,  felt  that  the  uncomfortable  dis- 
cussion had  been  well  worth  the  while,  if  only  for 
the  sake  of  proving  that  he  possessed  such  friends. 
And,  curiously  enough,  it  was  those  same  two  friends 
who,  weeks  before,  had  plotted  how,  in  quite  another 
sense,  they  might  make  the  pampered  hero  aware 
of  their  existence.  Their  foresight  had  been  as  short 
as  now  was  their  memory. 


234  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  And  yet,"  Irene  said  to  Sidney,  when  they  went 
to  their  rooms  to  dress  for  dinner ;  "  I  can't  help 
wishing  he  had  n't  had  to  do  it.  Of  course,  he 
could  n't  well  avoid  it,  being  Jack.  Still,  it  is  bound 
to  make  all  the  difference  in  the  world,  up  here.  Not 
for  us.  I  don't  care  if  it  does.  But  for  him.  People 
here,  who  are  only  just  getting  to  know  him,  won't 
take  the  trouble  to  find  out  what  sort  of  a  man  he 
really  is.  They  will  just  see  his  shiny  buttons  and 
his  cap,  and  stop  there.  In  a  way,  too,  it  will  make 
it  hard  for  Janet —  And  yet,"  she  broke  off  illog- 
ically,  as  they  halted  outside  of  Sidney's  door ;  "  I 
can't  help  being  rather  glad  he  's  done  it." 

When  Janet  came  down  to  dinner,  her  cheeks  were 
blazing  with  excitement.  As  if  in  justification  of 
her  own  strictures,  to  emphasize  her  right  to  act  as 
social  censor,  she  had  dressed  herself  elaborately,  and 
piled  her  hair  in  intricate  coils  on  top  of  her  head. 
She  looked  older  than  usual,  and  very  brilliant,  and 
her  poise  was  perfect,  as  she  quietly  assumed  direc- 
tion of  the  talk.  The  poise  did  not  fail  her,  even 
on  the  one  occasion  when  she  led  the  talk  away  frofn 
the  impersonalities  to  which  she  had  been  holding  it. 

"  By  the  way,  Jack,"  she  asked,  with  apparent 
carelessness,  as  she  served  the  pudding ;  "  I  never 
thought  to  ask  you  before.  Did  you  have  a  pleasant 
call  on  Mrs.  Bertie  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  go,"  he  answered  quietly. 

Janet  lifted  her  brows. 

"  Not  go  ?    How  did  that  happen  ?  "  she  inquired, 


JANET  A.T  ODDS  235 

and  Mrs.  Bertie  herself  might  have  been  glad  to 
copy  the  little  accent  of  tolerant  surprise. 

"  I  saw  no  need." 

"  She  asked  you." 

"  Yes.  She  asked  me  as  reward  of  merit,  because 
I  happened  to  save  her  from  a  spill  exactly  under 
the  nose  of  the  Prince.  Otherwise,  she  never  would 
have  been  aware  of  my  existence.  For  myself,  I 
don't  care  to  accept  an  invitation  of  that  sort." 

"  Really  ?  "  Janet  laid  down  the  spoon.  "  I  'm 
very  sorry.  I  like  to  have  my  guests  know  only  the 
nicest  sort  of  people,  especially  in  my  own  city." 

Then  it  was  that  Paul  cast  back  at  Janet's  feet 
the  allegiance  which  he  had  been  holding  for  her. 

"  The  only  question  is,  which  are  the  nicest,"  he 
observed.  Then,  scarlet  at  the  intentional  rudeness 
of  his  own  voice  and  manner,  he  brusquely  pushed 
his  chair  back  from  the  table.  "  Hang  it  all,  Blan- 
chard,  come  along  and  have  a  walk ! "  he  added 
gruffly.  "  Excuse  us,  Janet."  And,  an  instant  later, 
the  street  door  banged  behind  him. 


CHAPTER   SEVENTEEN 

"  T  ET  the  fellow  try  it  for  a  while,"  Mr.  Argyle 
1  -J  wrote  to  his  wife  at  Massawippi.  "  It  was 
honourable  of  him  to  wait  to  get  my  permission; 
and  I  confess  that  I  rather  liked  his  doing  it.  It 
won't  hurt  him  a  bit  in  the  eyes  of  any  sensible 
being;  and,  once  for  all,  it  will  settle  any  question 
of  his  getting  spoiled  and  soft.  Don't  tell  Rob  and 
Day  yet.  Best  leave  him  to  give  them  his  reasons, 
himself;  but  be  sure  you  remember  to  tell  me  just 
how  they  take  it.  Jack  's  every  inch  a  man ;  this 
new  departure  of  his  may  be  a  shock  to  their  feel- 
ings, but  it 's  bound  to  be  a  fine  lesson  to  them  both. 
It  takes  the  best  sort  of  a  judge  to  forget  the  frame, 
when  he  is  looking  at  a  picture." 

And  Mrs.  Argyle,  reading,  held  her  peace,  and 
then  burned  the  letter.  She  agreed  with  her  husband 
completely.  It  was  best  to  wait  and  leave  Jack  to 
tell  the  story  for  himself. 

Janet  came  down  to  breakfast,  the  next  morning, 
robed  in  a  brand-new  mantle  of  superiority,  un- 
creased,  untorn  at  any  point.  From  her  smile,  an 
outsider  would  never  have  imagined  that  the  house 
held  cause  for  friction;  her  level  voice  had  just 
the  proper  degree  of  courteous  interest,  as  she  met 
the  others  and  asked  the  usual  polite  questions  about 


JANET  AT  ODDS  237 


their  health,  that  morning,  their  rest,  the  night  be- 
fore. In  a  swift  aside,  Amy  Pope  expressed  to  Paul 
a  malign  wish  to  test  Janet's  calmness  with  the  point 
of  a  hat  pin;  however,  beside  the  manifest  and 
pink-nosed  depression  of  Mrs.  Blanchard,  even  Janet's 
superiority  was  a  relief,  and  the  others,  as  they  seated 
themselves  at  table,  returned  thanks  that  no  fresh 
scene  was  likely  to  occur  immediately. 

Contrary  to  her  usual  custom  of  late,  Janet's  talk 
disregarded  Paul  completely,  and  focussed  itself  upon 
Amy  Browne  whom  she  had  been  wont  to  disdain 
as  a  vain  and  fluffy  worldling,  brainless  and  to  be 
tolerated  only  on  account  of  Day.  Like  too  many 
girls  who  are  launched  into  the  thick  of  college  life 
before  they  have  had  a  chance  to  absorb  its  best 
traditions,  Janet  was  a  bit  of  a  Pharisee  just  then. 
Apart  from  her  Quebec  friends  who,  by  reason  of 
their  nationality,  were  exempt  from  criticism,  Janet 
was  inclining  to  sort  out  minds  according  to  their 
training  in  dead  languages  or  calculus.  Amy 
Browne's  knowledge  of  the  world,  her  year  or  two 
in  a  Dresden  school,  her  fluent  mastery  of  Spanish 
and  Italian  counted  for  little  in  the  eyes  of  Janet. 
She  ranked  these  things  as  mental  frills,  and  put 
them  side  by  side  with  the  Paris  frocks,  as  needless 
and  unproductive  luxuries.  The  last  lesson  that 
Janet  Leslie  would  ever  learn  was  the  one  which 
concerns  the  duty  of  graciousness  of  living,  a  duty 
which  can  be  fulfilled  in  any  home,  however 
simple. 


238  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Now,  though,  above  the  coffee  cups,  she  turned  to 
Amy  with  effusion. 

"  By  the  way,"  she  said ;  "  Gladys  telephoned  to 
me,  late  last  night,  about  this  afternoon.  She  wants 
all  of  us  girls  to  come  down  there,  directly  after 
luncheon.  She  has  some  plan  on  foot;  but  I  don't 
know  what  it  is.  Anyway,  if  she  plans  it,  it  is  sure 
to  be  worth  doing,  so  I  accepted  promptly  for  us  all." 

Amy  Pope  looked  up  from  her  plate. 

"  I  'm  sorry,  Janet ;  that  is,  if  it  includes  me,  for 
I  can't  go." 

"  Why  not  ?  There  's  nothing  else  on  hand ;  is 
there  ? " 

"  Paul  and  I  are  going  across  to  see  Jack  off." 

"  Jack  ? "  Janet  echoed,  in  polite  surprise ;  but  she 
did  not  turn  her  glance  in  that  direction. 

"  Yes.  He  begins  his  work,  to-day,"  Amy  an- 
swered for  him. 

"  Really  ?  I  am  sorry."  Janet's  sorrow  expressed 
itself  in  unruffled  calm.  "  We  shall  miss  you,  Jack. 
Still,  I  suppose  we  shall  see  you  back  again,  before 
the  party  breaks  up  entirely." 

"  He  will  be  here,  you  know,  over  two  nights,  each 
week,"  Irene  reminded  her. 

The  pause  grew  long.  Everybody  else  was  wait- 
ing for  Janet  to  speak ;  but  she  merely  consumed  her 
breakfast  with  an  air  of  complete  detachment.  At 
last,  just  as  the  nerves  of  the  other  girls  were  ready 
to  give  way,  Jack  broke  the  silence. 

"  All  in  all,"  he  said,  with  a  quietness  which  failed 


JANET  AT  ODDS  239 

to  match  the  hurt  look  in  his  eyes ;  "  I  think  it  may 
be  better  for  me  to  take  a  room  at  the  Saint  Louis. 
My  hours  will  be  irregular,  the  next  week  or  so ;  and 
there  's  no  especial  sense  in  my  stirring  up  all  your 
plans.  This  other  way  will  be  better." 

Janet  glanced  up  from  her  plate.  She  spoke 
carelessly. 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  she  repeated.  "  We  shall  miss  yo  . 
of  course.  Still,  as  you  say,  it  really  may  be  better 
for  you  not  to  be  tied  down  to  our  regular  hours  for 
things."  Then  airily  she  dismissed  the  subject. 
"  Amy,  can't  you  really  go  to  Gladys  ?  I  am  afraid 
she  won't  take  it  nicely,  if  you  don't." 

Amy  faced  her,  hostility  written  on  every  line  of 
her  face. 

"  Then  she  can  take  it  badly.  Not  all  the  Gladyses 
in  creation  can  keep  me  from  going  across  with  Jack. 
Paul  and  I  have  been  counting  on  it,  all  night  long." 

They  did  go  across  with  Jack.  When  he  came 
downstairs  in  his  uniform  and  with  his  suitcase  in 
his  hand,  he  found  them  waiting  in  the  hall,  to  all 
seeming  as  jolly  and  as  irresponsible  as  if  the  three 
of  them  had  been  starting  for  a  picnic.  Moreover, 
they  allowed  no  break  to  come  in  their  mood,  no 
break  in  the  conversation,  while  they  went  down 
through  the  city  streets,  crossed  the  ferry  and  waited 
beside  the  train  where  Jack,  after  his  old  fashion, 
took  his  stand  at  attention  beside  the  sleeper  steps. 
And  Jack,  heavy-hearted  by  reason  of  his  parting 
from  his  mother  whose  disapproval  had  been  fretful 


240  JANET  AT  ODDS 

and  aggrieved,  by  reason,  too,  of  Janet's  attitude  which 
had  hurt  him  far  more  than  he  would  have  felt  it 
manly  to  confess,  even  to  himself,  Jack  was  well 
aware  that  their  presence  tided  over  for  him  what 
otherwise  would  have  been  a  dreary  half-hour.  Once 
his  work  absorbed  him,  regrets  would  cease,  although 
even  now  the  regrets  were  not  at  all  for  the  coming 
work,  but  for  the  antagonism  he  had  left  behind  him. 
This  little  time  of  waiting,  though,  would  have  been 
a  forlorn  one,  had  it  not  been  for  these  two  loyal 
friends  who  were  standing  by  him,  to  fill  up  all  the 
gaps  left  by  his  old  familiar  routine.  Passengers 
were  few,  that  day.  What  few  there  were,  however, 
lingered  for  a  moment  on  the  platform,  while  they 
wondered  what  could  be  the  possible  connection  be- 
tween the  stalwart  young  conductor  and  the  well- 
groomed,  well-bred  boy  and  girl,  so  obviously  of  the 
world's  elect.  Asked,  however,  the  boy  and  girl 
would  not  have  found  it  hard  to  tell  them. 

The  train  conductor  gave  the  signal,  the  porter 
took  away  the  step,  and  the  train  slid  up  the  grade, 
carrying  Jack  with  it.  He  lingered  on  the  platform 
to  look  back  at  them,  smiling  slightly,  and  a  world 
of  gratitude  shining  in  his  steady,  friendly  eyes. 

"  But  what  I  want  to  know,"  Paul  said  slowly,  as, 
at  Amy's  side,  he  turned  away ;  "  what  I  want  to 
know  is  this :  where 's  Tids  ?  " 

"  I  do  know."    Amy  spoke  with  deliberation. 

"Where?" 

"At  Gladys  Horth's." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  241 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  Paul  said  impatiently.  "  But 
why  on  earth  is  n't  she  here  ?  I  thought  better  of 
Tids  than  all  that." 

"  Keep  on  thinking  better  of  her,  then,"  Amy  bade 
him  fearlessly.  "  She  deserves  every  bit  of  it  and 
more.  I  happen  to  know  that  she  was  coming  with 
us,  only  Jack  begged  her  not  to,  this  very  morning." 

"  Hm !  "  Paul's  grunt  was  expressive.  "  Why 
not?" 

"I  heard  him  saying  to  her  that  it  would  only 
just  make  matters  worse  all  round.  Then  I  removed 
myself  promptly.  From  the  way  he  was  looking  at 
her,  I  thought  I'd  best  leave  them  all  alone." 

Paul  shook  his  head  in  supreme  disdain. 

"  Tids  is  n't  that  sort.  Neither  is  he,"  he  said,  in 
two  crisp  sentences. 

"  Perhaps  not.     Still,  I  did  n't  stop  to  see." 

Paul  went  off  on  a  fresh  tack. 

"  Why  do  you  suppose  he  did  n't  go  for  us  about 
it,  too  ?  " 

The  thoughtfulness  left  Amy's  face,  and  her  laugh 
was  saucy. 

"  Because  he  probably  had  the  sense  to  know  it 
would  n't  do  the  slightest  bit  of  good.  Have  n't  you 
learned  by  this  time,  Paul,  that  there  are  seasons 
when  it  is  a  distinct  advantage  to  be  considered 
unreasonable  ? " 

Whatever  Paul  had  learned  from  his  experience, 
Sidney,  that  noon,  had  discovered  to  her  full  dis- 
satisfaction that  it  was  no  advantage  to  be  considered 

16 


242  JANET  AT  ODDS 

open  to  reason.  Jack  had  reasoned  with  her  at  great 
length,  that  morning.  Sidney  had  rebelled,  then 
yielded  to  his  logic.  Indeed,  she  would  have  yielded, 
just  then,  to  almost  any  request  Jack  made,  so  piti- 
ful was  she  for  the  hurt  look  in  his  eyes,  his  brave 
attempt  to  act  as  if  nothing  were  amiss.  Neverthe- 
less, it  had  been  a  hard  experience  for  the  girl,  this 
going  off  with  Janet  and  abandoning  her  loyal  friend 
just  at  the  time  when  he  seemed  to  need  her  most. 
However,  Jack  would  consent  to  no  other  course. 

"  Sidney,"  he  had  said  to  her  gravely,  as  he  met 
her  on  the  stairs,  soon  after  breakfast ;  "  I  have  a 
favour  to  ask  of  you." 

She  tried  to  break  his  gravity. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  inquired.  "  I  know,  from  the 
look  of  you,  it  is  something  that 's  sure  to  go  against 
the  grain." 

"  It  is.  I  want  you  to  promise  me  you  '11  go  to 
Gladys  Horth's,  this  afternoon." 

"I  won't,"  she  said  flatly.  Then  she  dropped 
down  upon  the  stairs,  prepared  to  defend  her  position. 

Deliberately  he  seated  himself  at  her  feet,  then 
turned  to  face  her,  while  a  little  spark  of  pleasure 
came  into  his  heavy  eyes,  belying  the  persuasiveness 
of  his  smile. 

"  I  wish  you  would,"  he  urged.  "  There  's  every 
reason  for  it ;  but  I  'm  asking  it  just  as  a  personal 
favour  to  myself." 

Sidney  rested  her  elbows  on  her  knees;  then  she 
put  her  chin  on  her  tight-shut  fists. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  243 


"  Jack,  it 's  not  of  the  slightest  use  to  wheedle  me 
like  that,"  she  told  him  quietly.  "  I  would  do  almost 
anything  else  for  you;  but  not  that.  It  would  be 
like  siding  with  Janet,  and  I  don't.  I  argued  for 
her,  last  night,  all  I  could,  because  there  wasn't 
another  person  there  to  say  a  single  word  for  her; 
but  the  fact  is,  I  am  mad,  mad  all  down  my  spine. 
Angry  does  n't  half  express  it.  Jack,"  she  unclinched 
her  right  fist  for  an  instant,  while  she  touched  his 
hand,  lying  along  the  stair  above  him.  Then  she 
resumed  her  old  position ;  "  the  more  I  think  about 
it,  I  think  you  're  very  splendid  in  this  thing." 

"  I  'm  glad,  Sidney,"  he  said  simply.  "  I  could  n't 
do  much  else,  though." 

"  Perhaps.  Perhaps  not.  Anyway,  I  intend  to 
go  to  see  you  off  and  publicly  bestow  my  bless- 
ing on  you,"  she  declared,  with  a  swift  suppression 
of  her  momentary  emotion.  "  It 's  the  least  thing 
I  can  do,  to  show  just  where  I  stand  in  this 
matter." 

Jack  put  his  foot  on  the  stair  where  he  was  sitting 
sidewise,  clasped  his  hands  about  his  bent  knee,  and 
fell  to  considering  the  opposite  wall.  Sidney,  above, 
considered  him  intently.  The  years  of  prosperity 
had  trained  him  in  a  certain  sort  of  social  ease ;  but, 
after  all,  he  was  very  much  the  same  old  Jack  who, 
years  before,  had  looked  out  for  herself  and  Bungay, 
and  carried  Rob  safely  through  one  bitter  day  and 
night  of  storm.  Moreover,  too,  Sidney  felt  sure 
that,  whatever  came,  he  would  always  remain  the 


244  JANET  AT  ODDS 

same  old  Jack,  steady,  reliable  and  loyal  to  the  very 
death. 

"  Confound  it  all,  Sidney !  "  Jack  broke  out  at 
length.  "  I  can't  argue ;  I  'm  no  lawyer.  But  see 
here.  Anybody  that  knows  the  two  of  us,  knows,  I 
hope,"  his  glance  sought  hers  for  a  moment,  and  then 
fell  away ;  "  that,  in  a  thing  like  this,  we  are  bound 
to  stick  together.  We  always  have  seen  things  more 
or  less  alike.  People  who  really  know  us,  know  that. 
The  others  don't  count,  so  there 's  no  especial  use 
in  trotting  out  the  fact  for  dress  parade.  I  had  no 
notion  that  I  was  going  to  bring  this  hornet's  nest 
around  my  ears;  I  thought  Janet  had  better  sense, 
and  I  supposed  she  stood  my  friend.  However," 
again  his  eyes  sought  hers,  and,  this  time,  they  held 
a  gleam  of  fun ;  "  I  rather  think  I  should  have  gone 
ahead  with  it,  just  the  same." 

She  caught  swiftly  at  the  sign  that  his  mood  was 
lightening. 

"  You  always  were  obstinate,"  she  reminded  him. 

"Perhaps.  Perhaps  we  get  it  in  the  army;  per- 
haps it  is  in  the  Blanchard  blood,"  he  told  her  whim- 
sically. Then  once  again  he  grew  grave.  "  Sidney, 
I  'm  older  than  the  rest  of  you,  old  enough  to  hate 
fusses  of  any  sort.  I  have  n't  had  so  very  many 
in  my  life.  I  am  sorry  to  have  been  the  reason  for 
this  one.  We  came  up  here  to  be  together  as  chums ; 
it  would  be  a  bad,  bad  thing  for  the  party  to  break 
up  in  a. row.  It  might  even  last  for  always,  and  it 's 
a  pity  to  run  the  risk  of  getting  to  be  bad  friends." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  245 


"  I  know  that,  Jack."  Sidney's  voice,  filling  the 
pause  he  left,  was  now  as  grave  as  his  own.  "  Still, 
there  are  some  things  that  are  enough  to  break  any 
friendship." 

"  Not  this,"  he  told  her  quickly.  "  Some  day,  we 
all  shall  be  laughing  at  the  whole  affair.  Only  — 
it  will  be  a  good  deal  better  to  laugh  together  than 
apart.  That 's  the  reason  I  am  begging  you  to  do 
all  you  can  to  hold  things  together  here;  at  least, 
until  the  Argyles  come  back." 

"  Why  me  ?  "  she  asked  him  quietly. 

"  Because,"  he  rose  and  stood  facing  her,  looking 
down  at  her  with  level,  kindly  eyes  which  were  full 
of  friendship  for  her,  of  trust  in  her  friendship  for 
him ;  "  because  there  is  n't  anybody  else  who  can  see 
all  sides  of  the  question,  and  knows  so  well  how  to 
keep  the  whole  situation  from  going  to  everlasting 
smash.  Will  you  do  it  ?  " 

"But  —  '" 

"  For  my  sake,"  he  urged  her. 

And  then  Sidney  gave  in  and  yielded  to  his  will. 
She  did  not  go  to  see  him  off  from  Levis.  She  did 
go  to  Gladys  Horth. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Sidney  had  all  she  could 
do  to  hold  the  little  party  from  entire  disruption. 
Without  the  support  of  Jack's  steady,  sturdy  per- 
sonality, Rob's  fun,  and  Day's  gay  tact,  it  seemed 
again  and  again  that  the  task  would  be  beyond  her 
strength.  The  cause  of  war  removed  with  Jack's 
departure,  there  was  no  more  open  outbreak;  but 


246  JANET  AT  ODDS 

the  relations  were  strained  wellnigh  to  the  point  of 
breaking.  Irene  and  Amy  Browne,  at  Sidney's  ex- 
pressed request,  maintained  an  armed  neutrality. 
Amy  Pope's  hostility,  however,  was  quite  unsuppress- 
ible,  while  Paul  announced,  a  dozen  times  a  day,  that 
he  would  start  for  home,  next  noon.  Janet,  mean- 
while, was  apparently  unconscious  of  any  sense  of 
strain.  She  went  her  accustomed  way  among  the 
girls,  with  Gladys  Horth.  The  only  alteration  in  her 
manner  lay  in  her  unbroken  attitude  of  superiority, 
and  in  an  increased  deference  towards  Mrs.  Blan- 
chard,  whether  to  show  sympathy  in  their  common 
disappointment  in  Jack's  social  evolution,  or  to  atone 
for  her  recent  bitterness  towards  Jack,  it  was  not 
altogether  easy  to  determine. 

And  yet,  unchanged  as  Janet  seemed  to  any  casual 
observer,  Irene  Jessup,  looking  deeper  and  more 
closely,  thought  she  could  make  out  a  difference  in 
the  girl's  appearance  and  manner.  She  was  more 
nervous  and  excitable  than  she  had  been,  earlier  in 
the  summer,  less  reticent  in  small  details,  more 
given  to  breaking  pauses  in  the  talk  with  careless, 
eager  chatter.  Her  face  was  more  animated  now, 
more  brilliant;  but  her  eyes,  instead  of  lighting 
now  and  then,  glittered  like  winter  stars,  and  be- 
neath them,  morning  after  morning,  there  lay 
dark  lines  of  shadow.  For  three  or  four  days, 
Irene  watched  Janet  and  held  her  peace.  On  the 
fifth  afternoon,  tea  over,  she  went  in  search  of 
Sidney. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  247 


"  Sidney,"  she  said,  without  preface ;  "  I  'm  wor- 
ried over  Janet." 

Sidney  shook  out  her  dinner  frock,  tossed  it  on  the 
bed,  then  unbuttoned  her  blouse. 

"  So  am  I,"  she  agreed  tranquilly. 

"But  I  don't  mean  her  temper;  I  mean  her 
health,"  Irene  persisted. 

Sidney  laughed. 

"  I  don't  see  signs  of  dissolution,"  she  replied  a 
little  callously. 

Irene  crossed  the  room,  put  her  two  brown  hands 
on  Sidney's  bare  shoulders  and  looked  straight  into 
her  eyes. 

"  Don't  let  your  loyalty  to  Jack  make  you  too 
bitter  against  Janet,  Sidney,"  she  urged  her  friend. 
"  He  would  n't  like  to  have  it ;  it 's  not  like  you  to 
be  so  hard.  I  've  been  watching  Janet  edgewise 
lately.  The  child  is  n't  at  all  well,  nor  like  herself." 

Sidney  bent  her  head  to  rub  her  cheek  on  Irene's 
arm,  token  that  the  rebuke,  deserved,  had  been  taken 
in  all  good  part.  Then, — 

"  Conscience,  most  likely,"  she  made  laconic  an- 
swer. 

"  It  probably  helps  on  the  situation.  Still,  I  im- 
agine the  cause  is  the  other  way  about.  Now  see 
here,  Sidney:  I  stayed  outside  the  pageants  and 
looked  on.  They  were  magnificent  to  watch;  but 
they  must  have  been  a  fearful  nervous  strain  to 
go  through.  Even  before  he  went  away,  Wade  was 
predicting  they  'd  be  the  cause  of  more  than  one 


248  JANET  AT  ODDS 

family  jar.  Everybody  was  tired  out  and  a  little 
cornerwise  as  to  his  temper.  You  none  of  you  — 
nor  I  —  escaped  the  general  epidemic.  And,  as  for 
Janet,  remember  that  she  took  it  all  on  top  of  the 
care  of  this  great  house,  of  the  extra  work  she  had 
when  Mary  Browne  was  ill  —  " 

"  We  all  helped,"  Sidney  reminded  her. 

"After  a  fashion,  yes.  Still,  in  the  end,  it  all 
came  back  on  her.  And  then  there  was  Lady 
.Wadhams." 

"  And  the  poodle,"  Sidney  added,  and  both  girls 
laughed.  "  Well  ?  "  Sidney  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"  This,"  Irene  answered ;  "  that  Janet  was  off  her 
nerve  and  cross;  that  she  knows  she  lost  her  temper 
and  acted  like  a  —  dunce,  and  now  it  only  makes 
her  worse.  There  's  a  perverse  little  streak  in  Janet 
Leslie  that  makes  it  almost  impossible  for  her  to 
admit  it,  when  she  's  in  the  wrong." 

Sidney  considered  the  matter  for  a  time. 

"  You  think  ?  "  she  inquired  slowly  then. 

"  That,  in  her  heart  of  hearts,  Janet  would  give 
anything  in  the  world  to  be  friends  again  with 
Jack." 

"  She  can,  if  she  wants  to.  Why  does  n't  she  write 
him  a  note  and  tell  him  so?" 

Irene  shook  her  head. 

"  That  is  n't  Janet,"  she  said  despairingly.  "  Once 
she  makes  her  bed,  she  '11  lie  in  it,  wrinkles  and  all, 
till  it  breaks  down  under  her  and  lets  her  tumble 
out  on  the  floor." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  249 

"  Then  what 's  to  be  done  about  it  all  ?  "  Sidney 
asked  impatiently. 

And  Irene  answered,  — 

"  Wait  till  it  does  break  down ;   that 's  all." 

Meanwhile,  in  the  library  downstairs,  Janet  still 
lingered  by  the  tray,  sorting  over  the  spoons  and 
casting  furtive  glances,  the  while,  at  the  boy  loung- 
ing in  the  farther  window-seat. 

"  Just  one  more  cup,  Paul  ?  "  she  urged  him. 

"  Thanks,  no,"  he  answered  a  little  curtly. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  she  asked  him, 
with  forced  gayety.  "  You  seem  dejected." 

His  reply  was  blunt. 

"Worse  than  that,  I'm  bored." 

Her  own  depression  was  too  great  to  allow  her  to 
resent  the  slander  to  her  hospitality. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  she  said  slowly.  "  Can  I  do  any- 
thing to  prevent  it,  Paul  ?  " 

Again  his  bluntness  downed  his  manners. 

"  Send  for  Blanchard  to  come  back,  and  beg  his 
pardon,"  he  said  shortly.  "  That  is  about  the  only 
thing  that  will  set  things  right,  I  fancy." 

Janet  paled,  started  to  speak.  Then  her  colour 
came,  and  she  raised  her  head  proudly. 

"  Paul !  "  Amy  Pope's  gay  voice  from  the  thresh- 
old came  like  a  cry  of  rescue  to  the  shipwrecked 
mariner,  swimming  beyond  his  depth  in  an  angry 
sea.  "  What  in  the  world  have  you  been  doing  now  ? 
Here  's  a  minion  of  the  law  in  the  hall,  with  a  letter 
addressed  to  you.  Do  come,  quick !  I  foresee  events." 


250  JANET  AT  ODDS 

With  the  shortest  possible  nod  to  Janet,  still  seated 
by  the  tray,  Paul  crossed  the  floor  and  vanished  in 
the  direction  of  the  hall.  He  found  there,  obviously 
awaiting  him,  a  fat  little  French  policeman  who 
held  in  his  hand  a  letter  with  Paul's  name  on  the 
outside. 

Glancing  askance  at  Amy,  Paul  nodded  to  the 
man  and  took  the  letter,  square,  thin,  and  bearing 
0.  H.  M.  8.  along  its  upper  margin.  He  broke  the 
seal,  read  the  few  words  it  contained,  and  then  burst 
into  a  roar  of  laughter  that  wellnigh  shook  the  pic- 
tures from  the  walls. 

"  Here,  catch !  "  He  tossed  the  note  to  Amy. 
"  This  is  yours,  as  much  as  it  is  for  me." 

Amy  caught  the  note  and  glanced  at  it.  Her 
laugh  echoed  Paul's  own,  as  she  read  the  brief 
missive,  — 

"  P.  ADDISON, 

"  SIR,  - 

"  The  infant  child  that  you  aforetime  stole,  it  now  is  at 
your  disposal,  so  long  as  you  still  so  desire. 

"  JEAN  TREMBLAY  :  Capt.  of  Police." 


CHAPTER   EIGHTEEN 

I  THINK  perhaps,"  Paul  said  guardedly  to  Amy 
Pope,  next  morning ;  "  that  we  'd  best  stop  at 
the  Saint  Louis  to  annex  Blanchard,  and  take  him 
along  with  us  as  interpreter." 

Amy  nodded. 

"  If  he  '11  go.  He  may  be  tired,  or  have  some- 
thing else  to  do." 

"  He  '11  go,  all  right.  He  's  always  pining  for 
chances  to  be  useful.  Besides,  he  has  a  sneaking 
fondness  for  our  society,  in  spite  of  himself."  Paul 
chuckled.  "  What 's  more,  we  '11  trot  him  round  past 
the  Horths',  parade  him  under  Gladys'  windows." 

"  What 's  the  use  ?    He  won't  have  on  his  uniform." 

"  No  matter.  He  's  it,  just  the  same.  How  long 
before  you  can  be  ready  for  a  start  ? " 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  eloquent,  as  a  com- 
ment upon  the  disruption  of  the  Leslie  household, 
than  the  fact  that  Paul  and  Amy  had  not  seen  fit 
to  acquaint  the  others  with  the  subject  of  Paul's  letter 
of  the  night  before.  Paul  had  dismissed  the  man 
with  a  nod,  a  curt  "  All  right.  I  '11  see  him  in  the 
morning,"  and  the  man  had  gone  his  way  before 
the  others  had  even  been  aware  of  his  arrival. 
Then,  - 

"  I  say,  this  is  mighty  strange,"  Paul  had  observed 
to  Amv. 


252  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Rather.     What  do  you  suppose  it  means  ?  " 

"  Blest  if  I  know !     Don't  you  ?  " 

"  How  should  I  ?  " 

Paul  chuckled. 

"  You  were  in  it,  too." 

"  But  how  did  they  get  your  name  ? " 

Paul's  chuckle  grew. 

"  On  the  police  court  records,  of  course." 

Amy  recoiled  from  the  idea. 

"  Paul !    Not  really  ?    That  would  be  terrible." 

"  Most  likely  yours  is  there  with  it,"  Paul  reminded 
her  unkindly. 

"  You  're  not  in  earnest  ?  "  she  protested. 

"  Sure !  That 's  what  comes  of  being  took  for 
petty  larceny."  But,  by  this  time,  his  laugh  betrayed 
him,  and  Amy's  face  resumed  its  normal  look  of 
supreme  content. 

"  But,  Paul !  "  She  had  started  to  go  upstairs ; 
but  she  paused,  as  a  new  thought  struck  her.  "  Do 
you  suppose  it  is  the  same  baby?  It  may  be  just 
a  plot  to  work  off  a  child  on  us.  I  never  could  be 
sure  it  was  the  same." 

"  I  could,  though,"  Paul  asserted  confidently ;  "  I  'd 
know  him  by  his  barking,  every  time.  Still,  what 's 
the  difference?  You  don't  propose  to  adopt  him; 
do  you  ? " 

"  No !  "  Amy  made  hasty  answer.  "  Never ! 
But  —  " 

Once  more  she  turned  away  to  mount  the  stairs. 
Once  more  she  halted. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  253 

"  Shall  we  tell  the  others,  Paul  ? " 

"  Not  till  we  have  something  to  tell.  Like  Blan- 
chard,  I  'm  getting  to  fight  shy  of  discussions.  Later 
on,  we  can  do  as  we  like.  Now,  though,  we  'd  best 
hold  our  peaces  till  we  discover  what  comes  of 
it  all." 

"  What  could  come  ?  "  Amy  questioned. 

And  Paul  answered   in  a  hollow  tone,  — 

"  The  baby." 

Then  he  went  his  way,  giving  opportunity  for  no 
more  plotting  or  discussion  until,  dinner  done,  he 
and  Amy  departed  for  the  terrace. 

Next  morning,  directly  after  breakfast,  they  left 
the  house  once  more.  They  vouchsafed  no  explana- 
tion of  their  coming  absence;  but  Sidney  straight- 
way connected  their  going  with  the  thought  of  Jack, 
and  yearned  acutely  to  be  with  them.  She  was  not 
jealous  in  the  least  of  Amy's  place  with  either  boy. 
Down  in  her  heart  of  hearts,  she  knew  that  the  care- 
less, conscienceless,  warm-hearted  Amy  was  no  match 
for  herself  in  the  estimation  of  either  one ;  yet  that, 
in  the  present  crisis,  her  happy-go-lucky  hilarity  ren- 
dered her  a  good  comrade  for  both  the  boys.  Still, 
it  would  have  been  very  good  to  have  been  included 
in  their  quartette,  wherever  it  was  going.  If  Rob 
had  only  been  there,  he  would  have  taken  her  out, 
as  Paul  was  doing  Amy,  to  meet  Jack  upon  neutral 
ground.  Without  him  —  it  all  was  different.  Sid- 
ney's gray  eyes  clouded.  Without  Rob,  things  were 
always  different,  anyway.  And  a  letter  from  him, 


254  JANET  AT  ODDS 

in  that  morning's  mail,  bad  said  that  it  might  be  a 
full  week  more  before  be  and  Day  returned. 

By  common  consent  of  the  four  girls  and  Paul, 
it  had  been  agreed  that  their  letters  to  the  Argyles 
should  hold  no  mention  of  Jack's  absence,  none  of 
the  season  of  storm  that  lay  upon  the  house.  At 
that  distance,  neither  Rob  nor  Day  could  do  anything 
to  alleviate  the  situation.  There  was  no  need  to  spoil 
their  visit,  all  for  nothing.  Besides,  it  would  be  hard 
to  say  anything  at  all  without  saying  far  too  much. 
Best  wait  till  they  returned,  unless,  as  was  very 
likely,  Jack  wrote  them  all  the  tale,  himself.  And 
so  the  days  must  drag  along,  each  one  less  comfort- 
able than  the  last  had  been,  until  Day  and  Rob  were 
back  again,  to  put  some  end  or  other  to  the  whole 
ugly  situation.  For,  as  the  hours  crept  slowly  past 
her,  wearing  her  patience  and  her  nerves  to  shreds, 
Sidney  almost  ceased  to  care  what  the  end  would 
be,  so  long  as  the  Argyles,  she  and  Jack  could  only 
run  away  back  to  dear  old  American  New  York. 
For  the  time  being,  Janet's  shadow  was  hanging 
over  her  so  near  and  imminent  as  to  blot  out  the 
rest  of  Canada,  its  traditions  and  its  point  of  view. 

As  Paul  had  foreseen,  Jack  flung  himself  into 
their  plan  with  characteristic  energy,  and,  barely 
waiting  to  snatch  up  a  cap,  he  joined  them  in  the 
street  where  Amy,  pacing  to  and  fro,  looked  up  to 
hail  his  coming. 

"  All  right  ?  "  she  asked  him  gayly. 

"  Right  as  can  be." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  255 

"  Where  are  your  shiny  buttons  ?  " 

"  Upstairs.  Do  you  expect  me  to  wear  them,  when 
I'm  off  duty?" 

She  nodded. 

"  They  make  you  look  very  grand  and  official,  they 
and  the  stiff  cap.  I  can  almost  imagine  you  're  in 
your  old  uniform  again." 

"  So  I  am." 

"  No ;  I  don't  mean  that.  I  imagine  this  one 
is  better  groomed;  but  I  was  talking  about  the 
khaki  one.  Still,  I  suppose  this  is  more  becoming 
to  your  colour.  What  do  you  think  we  're  after 
now  ? " 

He  laughed. 

"  Paul  told  me.  Have  you  any  idea  what  it  all 
may  mean  ? " 

"  Not  a  bit.  That 's  what  we  're  after  now,  to  find 
out.  It  may  be  some  dire  plot  to  inflict  belated 
justice.  That 's  why  I  wanted  you  to  be  in  uniform." 
Her  laugh  was  full  of  gay  mockery.  "  What  do  you 
advise  us  to  do  ?  " 

"  Just  what  you  are  doing :  go  down  to  Saint 
Sauveur  and  find  out  what  they  want.  Will  you 
walk,  or  take  the  car  ? " 

Amy  considered,  her  head  on  one  side. 

"  When  I  was  a  little  girl  and  had  a  plummy  bun," 
she  said  at  length ;  "  I  used  to  eat  it  in  little  teeny 
bites,  to  make  it  last  a  long,  long  time.  I  think  — 
inasmuch  as  we  've  got  you  to  go  with  us  —  I  'd 
rather  walk." 


256  JANET  AT  ODDS 


And  notwithstanding  the  lazy  mockery  of  her  tone 
Jack  reddened  with  pleasure  at  her  words. 

Side  by  side,  then,  that  sunny  August  morning, 
the  three  friends  tramped  away  together,  around  the 
Ramparts,  along  Rue  Richelieu,  down  the  rambling 
old  Cote  d' Abraham,  bordered  on  either  hand  with 
sharp-nosed  houses  and  shabby  shops,  and  then,  turn- 
ing northwest,  on  into  Saint  Sauveur.  So  elated 
were  they  with  the  crispy  morning  air  around  them, 
with  the  sharp  lights  and  shadows  of  the  streets  and 
of  the  distant  hills,  most  of  all  with  the  pleasure 
of  once  more  setting  out  together  in  their  old,  familiar 
fashion  which  already  had  come  to  seem  a  part  of 
a  remote  past :  so  intent  were  they  on  all  these  things 
that  they  quite  forgot  the  main  purpose  of  their 
errand,  and  they  looked  up  in  surprise  when  Jack 
brought  them  to  a  halt  outside  a  police  station  in 
Saint  Sauveur. 

"  Hanged  if  I  did  n't  forget  all  about  what  we 
were  after !  "  Paul  said  a  little  ruefully,  as  they  pre- 
pared to  enter  the  official-looking  door.  Then,  hat 
in  hand,  he  dodged  aside.  "  Pardon  me ;  ladies 
first,"  he  said  to  Amy. 

But  Jack,  albeit  laughing,  held  her  back. 

"  I  think  I  'd  best  go  in  ahead,"  he  told  her. 
"  Nobody  knows  what  it  is  they  may  be  after,  and 
you  surely  will  need  my  French,  once  you  do  get 
inside.  No ;  it 's  bound  to  be  all  right,  Amy."  He 
smiled  in  answer  to  her  dubious  glance.  "  Else,  you 
know,  I  never  would  have  let  you  come  down  here 


JANET  AT  ODDS  257 

with  us."  And,  as  so  many  others  had  done  before 
her,  she  cast  aside  her  uneasiness,  relying  completely 
on  his  eyes  and  smile. 

Moreover,  it  was  just  as  Jack  had  told  them.  They 
assuredly  did  not  know  the  purpose  of  the  letter; 
just  as  assuredly  they  did  have  sore  need  of  his 
French.  Inside  the  station,  the  colloquy  was  long 
and  animated;  yet  not  one  word  did  Paul  or  Amy 
understand,  save  now  and  then  a  vehement  negative 
from  Jack.  When  at  last  there  came  a  silence  and 
Jack  turned  to  face  them,  pity,  amusement,  con- 
sternation were  written  on  his  honest  brow. 

"  Had  it  ever  occurred  to  either  of  you,"  he  asked ; 
"  to  care  about  adopting  a  lusty  baby  boy  of  thirteen 
months  ? " 

"  What !  "  Paul  shot  off  the  exclamation  like  a 
bomb. 

"  Exactly,"  Jack  made  composed  reply.  "  That 
is  what  I  told  the  officer  on  duty." 

"  But  what  cheek !  What  blasted  cheek !  What 
does  he  think  I  'd  do  with  a  baby,  anyhow  ? " 

"  I  also  asked  him  that.  He  assured  me  that  he 
did  n't  know ;  but  that,  a  few  weeks  ago,  monsieur 
appeared  to  covet  the  baby  for  his  own." 

Paul  turned  on  Amy,  after  the  fashion  of  man- 
kind from  Father  Adam  down. 

"  You  did  it,"  he  reminded  her.  "  'T  was  you  who 
suggested  making  off  with  it,  in  the  first  place." 

"  I  ?  "  The  single  syllable  nearly  cracked  with 
the  amount  of  scorn  compressed  into  it.  Then  Amy 

17 


258  JANET  AT  ODDS 

turned  her  back  on  Paul.  "  But,  Jack,  what  makes 
them  so  willing  to  give  away  the  child  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Apparently  because  there  's  nothing  else  to  do 
with  him." 

"  Where 's  the  grandfather  ?  " 

"  Dead,  of  typhoid." 

Amy's  face  changed,  in  swift  pity  for  the  little 
waif. 

"  Has  n't  he  any  other  relations  ?  " 

"  Only  an  aunt-in-law  who  kept  the  house.  And 
it  seems  she  also  died  of  typhoid,  a  day  or  so  ago." 

"  Dreadful !     What  will  become  of  the  baby  ?  " 

Jack  shook  his  head. 

"  That  is  the  question  this  man  apparently  expects 
you  to  answer.  I  can't  seem  to  get  out  of  his  head 
the  notion  that  you  and  Paul  really  did  have  some 
sort  of  designs  upon  the  infant.  He  keeps  sticking 
to  it  that  now  your  time  has  come." 

But,  for  once  in  her  life,  Amy  Pope  refused  to 
see  the  humour  of  a  situation.  Instead,  — 

"  Where  is  the  baby  now  ? "  she  demanded. 

"  A  neighbour  took  him  for  a  day  or  two ;  but  —  " 

She  interrupted. 

"  Paul,  lend  me  some  money,  please.  I  have  only 
sixty-three  cents  to  my  name." 

"  Millions  for  defence !  Still,  he  's  a  presenta- 
tion copy.  There  's  no  especial  sense  in  offering  to 
buy  him." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  buy  the  child,"  Amy  protested. 
"  I  just  want  to  hunt  up  the  neighbour  and  give  it 


JANET  AT  ODDS  259 

to  it  for  it.  It 's  pitiful :  first  its  mother,  then  its 
grandfather,  then  its  aunt." 

"  In-law,"  Paul  supplemented,  as  he  handed  her 
his  purse.  "  There  's  my  little  all,  Amy.  Take  it 
with  my  blessing;  spend  it  freely,  yet  without  ex- 
travagance." Then  his  jolly  face  grew  grave.  "  After 
all,  though,  it  is  hard  lines  on  the  little  chap.  I 
don't  sec  what  is  going  to  become  of  him." 

"  I  do,"  Amy  said  promptly.  "  Where  is  the 
neighbour,  Jack  ?  Do  you  suppose  we  could  find  the 
place  and  take  a  look  at  the  baby,  to  make  sure  it 's 
all  right  ?  " 

Jack  laughed  a  little. 

"  I  was  about  to  say,  when  you  cut  in,"  he  told 
her ;  "  that,  last  night,  the  neighbour  landed  here, 
baby  and  all,  and  told  the  officer  on  duty  that  she 
could  n't  keep  him,  another  minute." 

"  Why  not,  the  horrid  thing  ?  "  Amy  demanded. 

Again  Jack's  eyes  grew  merry. 

"  Force  of  character,"  he  answered.  "  The  little 
chap  appeared  not  to  fancy  her,  and  was  n't  back- 
ward about  expressing  his  views." 

"  Most  likely  she  spanked  him,"  Amy  made  vindic- 
tive retort.  "  Where  is  he  now,  Jack  ?  " 

"  They  let  him  stop  on  here,  until  they  heard  from 
you." 

"  Jack !  In  a  police  office !  That  baby !  Have 
them  get  him,  quick !  " 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  Paul  objected. 

"  Quick !  "  Amy  repeated. 


260  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Once  more  Jack  faced  the  officer.  There  was  a 
hasty,  energetic  colloquy  in  French;  and  then  an 
attendant  left  the  room  and  vanished  down  the  hall. 
A  little  later,  sounds  were  heard  from  afar,  angry 
sounds  and  strident  withal,  and  increasing  in  volume 
as  they  came  nearer.  Paul  listened,  lifted  his  head, 
listened  again  intently. 

"  He  's  it,"  he  said.  "  I  'd  know  him  by  his  bay. 
I  'd  swear  to  that  larynx  in  a  dozen." 

A  moment  later,  the  attendant  came  back  to  the 
office,  bearing  on  his  shoujder  the  shrieking  child, 
blue-satin  coated  no  longer,  but  clad  in  dingy  flannel, 
its  face  thin  and  of  a  chalky  white.  As  Paul's  eyes 
rested  on  the  child,  the  laugh  went  out  of  their  gray 
depths  and  in  its  place  there  came  a  great,  boyish 
tenderness  and  pity. 

"  Poor  —  little  —  chap !  "  he  said  slowly.  "  He  's 
all  gone  to  pieces,  and  I  'd  hardly  know  him." 

Something  in  the  slow,  deliberate  accent  caught  the 
attention  of  the  shrieking  baby.  He  gulped  back  an 
unfinished  roar  and  turned  his  head  to  look.  Close 
beside  him  was  a  face  he  liked,  a  stranger  face,  yet 
friendly,  with  a  look  in  its  gray  eyes  he  had  encoun- 
tered but  too  rarely  in  his  baby  life.  He  looked  again, 
gulped  back  the  beginnings  of  another  roar;  and 
then,  before  the  group  around  him  could  guess  at  his 
intention,  he  had  stretched  out  to  Paul  his  meagre, 
grimy  little  fists. 

"  Well  —  by  —  Jove !  "  As  if  in  spite  of  him- 
self, Paul's  hands  went  out  in  answer.  "  I  '11  be 


JANET  AT  ODDS  2G1 

hanged,  Amy,  if  the  little  chap  does  n't  remember 
me." 

But  Amy  only  nodded,  too  much  absorbed  in  the 
practical  issues  of  the  case  to  heed  the  purely  sen- 
timental. Leaving  Paul  to  beam  benevolently  at  the 
smudgy  fingers  clasped  about  his  thumb,  she  faced 
back  again  to  Jack. 

"  Eeally,  what  will  become  of  the  child  ? "  she 
asked. 

"  Eeally,  Amy,  I  don't  know." 

"  Has  n't  he  any  people  that  belong  to  him  ?  Not 
anywhere  ? " 

"  They  can't  get  on  the  track  of  any." 

"  And  the  neighbour  would  n't  keep  him  ?  " 

"  She  said  not." 

"  Awful !  Just  a  poor  little  human  white  ele- 
phant !  Jack,  do  you  suppose  they  '11  keep  him  here, 
if  we  give  them  money  to  pay  for  things  ? " 

"  Not  likely.   A  police  station  is  n't  a  day  nursery." 

"  I  say,  look  here,  you  two !  "  Paul  broke  in,  as 
he  sawed  his  thumb,  clasping  fingers  and  all,  up  and 
down  through  the  air.  "  Just  see  the  way  he  hangs 
on.  A  fellow  can't  help  rather  taking  to  the  little 
beggar." 

"  Where  can  he  go,  then  ?  "  Amy  asked  desperately. 

"  I  suppose  there  must  be  asylums,  or  something 
of  that  sort,"  Jack  was  beginning  vaguely;  but  Amy 
interrupted  him. 

"Yes,  and  be  a  pink-calico  child,  with  a  number 
and  not  an  ounce  of  personality !  " 


262  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  But,  if  it 's  the  best  we  can  do  for  the  little 
chap  ?  "  Jack  urged. 

Into  Amy  Pope's  eyes  flashed  the  light  of  a  new 
idea,  magnificent  and  daring,  magnificent  because  it 
was  so  daring. 

"  Jack,"  she  said  abruptly,  as  she  straightened  up 
her  shoulders  and  looked  into  his  eyes  with  eyes 
which  were  not  so  far  below  his  own ;  "  I  'd  like  to 
go  at  this  thing  delicately  and  by  degrees;  but  un- 
fortunately there  is  n't  time.  I  'm  going  to  wait  a 
little  bit,  before  we  stick  this  child  into  an  asylum. 
Maybe  we  can  find  a  better  home  for  him,  if  we 
have  a  few  days  to  look  around  us.  In  the  mean- 
time, just  for  a  few  days,  a  very,  very  few,  do  you 
suppose  your  mother  —  " 

Jack  hesitated.     Then,  — 

"I  —  well  —  er  —  yes,  perhaps,"  he  assented 
vaguely.  And  then,  a  moment  later,  "  But  what 
about  Janet  ?  "  he  queried,  with  a  smile  which  held 
no  hint  of  mirth. 

Amy  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  '  Let  the  heathen  rage,'  "  she  answered.  "  I  'm 
not  afraid  of  Janet.  Paul,  if  you  can  detach  your- 
self for  a  single  instant,  will  you  please  run  over  to 
the  cab-stand  on  the  corner,  and  get  a  carter  ?  " 

Thus  did  Amy  take  the  helm. 

To  the  surprise  of  all  the  three,  the  baby  mani- 
fested a  calm  pleasure  in  the  long  drive  to  Upper 
Town.  Jack  left  them  at  the  Saint  Louis.  Much 
as  he  regretted  the  loss  of  seeing  his  mother's  face 


JANET  AT  ODDS  263 


at  sight  of  her  new  charge,  he  felt  it  best,  all  things 
considered,  not  to  drive  on  with  them  to  the  Leslie 
door.  Besides,  it  was  now  high  noon,  and  time  that 
he  once  more  donned  his  uniform.  Had  he  decided 
otherwise,  he  not  only  would  have  looked  on  at  a 
meeting  which  held  its  own  share  of  humour,  but 
he  would  have  learned  that  Rob,  in  a  letter  received, 
that  morning,  had  announced  a  change  of  plan 
whereby  Day  and  he  were  to  arrive  in  Quebec,  two 
days  later.  And  Paul  and  Amy,  too  much  absorbed 
in  the  varied  welcomes  accorded  to  their  charge  to 
think  of  other  things,  neglected  until  too  late  to  tele- 
phone down  to  the  Saint  Louis  the  exciting  news. 

It  was  a  full  week  now  since  Jack  had  started  upon 
his  self-sought  task;  and,  in  all  that  week,  not  one 
word  had  come  to  him  from  Rob  and  Day.  Jack 
had  watched  eagerly  the  coming  of  the  mails,  sure 
that  these  two  best  friends  of  his  would  write  to 
him  as  soon  as  they  heard  from  their  father  of  his 
new  plan.  At  the  first,  he  had  longed  acutely  for 
their  letters,  sure  that  they  would  give  him  their 
full  sympathy.  Then,  as  two  days  and  then  three 
went  past  him  and  no  message  came,  he  was  con- 
scious of  a  little  ache  in  what  it  was  conventional 
to  call  his  heart.  Did  they  also  disapprove?  It 
would  be  hardest  of  all  to  stand  out  against  their 
opinion,  after  being  so  very  sure  that  they  would 
take  their  stand  upon  his  side.  And  worse  than 
their  disapproval  was  their  utter  silence.  Of  course, 
it  would  have  been  easy  for  him  to  write  to  them 


264  JANET  AT  ODDS 

and  tell  them  all  the  story ;  but  an  unwonted  shyness, 
a  self-distrust  born  of  Janet's  strictures,  held  him 
back.  Besides,  it  rarely  was  wise  to  set  things  down 
in  ink.  Best  wait,  and  talk  it  over  with  them,  face  to 
face.  Only  —  the  time  of  waiting  seemed  unduly  long. 

It  was  a  raw  and  rainy  dawn,  two  mornings  later, 
when  Rob  and  Day  boarded  the  north-bound  train. 
The  porter  showed  them  to  their  section,  for  the 
conductor  was  having  his  allotted  four-hour  sleep, 
and  it  was  not  until  a  good  hour  afterward  that  the 
curtains  of  his  section  stirred.  A  little  later  still, 
he  made  his  appearance  in  the  car  where  Rob  and 
Day  sat  facing  him.  Unconcernedly  enough,  he  came 
striding  along  the  narrow  passage  past  the  smoking- 
room,  paused  to  ask  a  question  of  the  porter,  then 
came  striding  on  again.  Just  inside  the  doorway  of 
the  main  division  of  the  car,  he  halted,  his  shoulders 
thrown  back,  his  chin  lifted,  his  eyes  and  lips  both 
smiling  a  little,  as  his  gaze  wandered  down  the  car 
before  him.  It  was  an  old,  old  trick  of  his,  that 
characteristic  pose  of  kindly  interest  in  the  people 
entrusted  to  his  care,  a  pose  so  well  remembered  by 
one  at  least  among  his  morning's  passengers. 

And  the  passenger,  seeing,  remembering,  sprang 
to  his  feet  alertly,  dragging  his  companion  with  him. 

"  Day !  Day !  "  he  burst  out  excitedly.  "  Hanged 
if  it  is  n't  Jack !  " 

And,  with  Day  close  at  his  heels,  he  dashed  down 
the  car,  his  hand  stretched  out  in  eager  welcome. 


CHAPTER   NINETEEN" 

WITH  Rob  sitting  opposite,  and  Day  curled 
up  by  his  side,  Jack  told  them  all  his  story ; 
all,  that  is,  which  he  knew:  told  of  his  plan,  of  the 
opposition  which  it  had  created,  of  Janet's  acquies- 
cence when  he  had  proposed  to  leave  the  house.  Bit 
by  bit,  it  all  came  out ;  not  willingly,  but  in  response 
to  Rob's  incisive  questions.  Bit  by  bit,  as  they  lis- 
tened, Rob's  jovial  face  grew  dark,  and  Day's  clear 
eyes  grew  overcast  and  sad. 

"  Poor  old  Jack !  "  she  interrupted  once.  "  It 
could  n't  have  been  much  worse.  And  to  think  we 
never  knew !  " 

He  smiled  at  her  for  a  moment,  without  speaking. 
Her  girlish  sympathy  touched  him  to  the  quick, 
touched  him  the  more  in  comparison  with  those  long 
days  when  he  had  vainly  waited  for  a  message  from 
her. 

"  You  did  n't  know,  Day  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  Do  you  suppose  wild  horses  would  have  kept  us 
down  there,  if  we  had  ? "  she  demanded.  "  But 
go  on." 

And  Jack  went  on  to  the  very  end,  while  Rob  asked 
the  questions  and  Day  listened.  Over  the  final  chap- 
ters of  his  story,  his  steady  eyes  drooped  a  little,  and 


266  JANET  AT  ODDS 

the  others  heard  him  out  in  utter  silence.  AVhen  he 
had  finished,  Day  gave  a  long  sigh.  A  moment  later, 
she  moved  a  bit  closer  to  his  side,  while  her  hand 
stole  across  his  arm.  His  breath  held  short,  he 
awaited  her  verdict.  It  was  prompt  in  coming. 

"  From  start  to  finish,  you  have  done  the  only 
thing  possible,  Jack,"  she  told  him.  "  But,  to  my 
dying  day,  I  shall  regret  I  was  n't  here  to  fight  on 
your  side." 

"  It 's  not  too  late  yet,"  Rob  reminded  her  grimly. 

But  Jack  interposed,  and  begged  for  peace.  Too 
bad  to  turn  a  skirmish  into  open  war.  Now  he  was 
out  of  the  way,  Janet  would  calm  down  again  and 
be  friends.  He  really  was  very  comfortable  at  the 
Saint  Louis.  Now  Rob  and  Day  were  within  reach 
once  more,  nothing  else  counted  very  much,  after  all. 

"  But,"  he  rose,  as  he  spoke,  for  the  train  was 
slowing  up  for  Sherbrooke,  rose  and  stood  smiling 
down  at  them  in  his  old  way ;  "I  do  want  you  to 
know  one  thing:  Paul  and  Amy  Pope  have  stuck  to 
me  like  a  pair  of  burrs.  A  fellow  could  n't  have  more 
plucky  champions  to  fight  for  him.  They  were  on 
my  side  from  the  start,  right  or  wrong;  and  they 
were  n't  always  too  tactful  in  suppressing  their  opin- 
ions, either."  Then,  for  the  porter  was  waiting,  he 
left  them  alone. 

"  Rob,"  Day  spoke  a  little  sadly ;  "  did  you  sup- 
pose Janet  had  it  in  her  ?  " 

And  Rob's  answer  came  as  gravely,  — 

"No,  Day;    I  didn't." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  267 

There  was  a  pause.     Day  spoke  again. 

"  Poor  dear  old  Jack  !  "  she  said.  "  This  has  taken 
it  out  of  him  badly.  He  won't  admit  he  is  hurt; 
but  the  snap  is  all  gone  out  of  him." 

ISTone  the  less,  she  was  smiling  blithely  at  him, 
next  time  he  came  down  the  car. 

"  What  an  adorable  thing  you  are  in  your  but- 
tons, Jack !  "  she  told  him-  gayly.  "  You  know  I 
never  saw  you  so  dressed  up  before.  Do  let  your 
porter  do  things,  and  you  come  back  and  stay  with 
us.  I  want  to  hear  about  Mr.  Savarin,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it.  Besides,"  heedless  of  the  other  passengers, 
she  laid  her  hand  on  his  and  smiled  straight  up  into 
his  watching  eyes ;  "  remember  I  've  been  short  a 
brother,  for  almost  two  weeks.  Now  I  've  found  him 
again,  I  want  to  make  the  most  of  his  society." 

Rob  dodged  the  little  splash  of  sentiment. 

"  How  long  do  you  stop  over  in  Quebec,  Jack  ? " 

"  Till  to-morrow  afternoon." 

"  Jack !  "  Day  started  up  in  consternation.  "  You 
don't  mean  you  're  going  off  again  ?  " 

Rob  laughed. 

"  I  say,  Day,  did  you  think  this  was  a  special  trip 
made  in  our  honour  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  But  now  we  have  come  back  ? "  she  urged. 
"  Must  you  go,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Every  trip  I  make  means  just  so  much  more 
for  Savarin,"  he  told  her. 

Unexpectedly,  Hob  ranged  himself  upon  Jack's 
side. 


268  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Moreover,  every  trip  you  make  shows  you  are 
acting  from  a  set  purpose,  not  a  whim,"  he  added 
gravely.  "  I  don't  know  how  long  you  're  in  for, 
Jack ;  but,  in  your  place,  I  think  I  'd  stick  it  out." 

Day  shook  her  head  forlornly  at  her  fingers,  where 
they  lay  shut  over  Jack's. 

"  So  would  I,  I  hope.  I  'm  not  too  sure.  Still  — 
I  do  believe  this  thing  will  make  me  prouder  than 
ever  of  you,  Jack,  even  if  I  could  n't  well  be  fonder." 

"  I  'm  glad,"  he  answered.  "  I  was  a  little  wor- 
ried, Day,  to  know  just  how  you  were  going  to 
take  it." 

She  faced  him,  rebuke  in  her  eyes  and  on  her 
tongue. 

"  Jack !     How  could  you  ?  " 

Again  Rob  interposed. 

"  Apropos  of  boots,  when  do  you  get  in  from  your 
next  expedition  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  To-day  's   Tuesday  ?     Friday  noon,  then." 

"  And  are  off  again,  next  day  ?  That 's  a  fine  pros- 
pect for  me."  Rob  sighed  ostentatiously.  "  Day,  I 
want  to  go  back  to  mama.  In  all  your  hen-party, 
who  '11  play  with  me,  when  Jack  is  gone  ?  " 

"  There  '"a  Paul." 

"  Paul !     He  's  nothing  but  an  infant." 

But  Jack  looked  up  sharply.  Then  he  shook  his 
head. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  Rob.  On  the  contrary,  he  's  very 
much  a  man." 

And  a  man  he  showed  himself,  that  night,  every 


JANET  AT  ODDS  269 

inch  of  him.  He,  with  Amy  Pope,  Sidney  and  the 
two  Argyles,  had  joined  Jack  on  the  terrace.  Then, 
finding  the  crowd  too  thick,  the  band  too  strident  to 
allow  much  conversation,  they  had  climbed  far  up 
the  glacis  in  search  of  a  quiet  spot.  There,  settled  in 
a  close  ring  on  the  short,  crisp  grass,  they  alternated 
between  talking  all  at  once,  and  allowing  the  pauses 
to  grow  long,  while  they  stared  down  on  the  panorama 
of  lights  spread  out  beneath.  By  common  consent, 
they  one  and  all  avoided  the  subject  of  the  recent 
warfare,  the  participants  because  they  were  weary  of 
the  ugly. theme  and  glad  to  turn  to  the  fresher  in- 
terests of  Rob  and  Day;  the  Argyles  because  they 
supposed  that,  hours  since,  they  had  been  put  in 
possession  of  all  the  facts. 

Rob  was  the  first  to  find  out  his  mistake.  He 
found  it  out  by  way  of  Paul,  that  very  night.  It 
was  long  after  the  echoes  of  the  evening  gun  had 
died  away  in  the  still  distance  that  the  group  came 
down  the  glacis;  it  was  long,  long  after  that  that 
the  group  in  the  Leslie  drawing-room  disbanded. 
Paul  followed  the  rest  upstairs,  exchanged  a  last 
good-night  or  two,  then  lingered  irresolutely  in  the 
upper  hall.  Rob,  limping  across  the  floor  of  his  room 
to  throw  the  casement  wider  open,  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment, looking  thoughtfully  down  into  the  gray  old 
street  beneath.  When  he  turned  away,  it  was  to  see 
Paul  lingering  outside  his  door. 

"  Come  along  in,"  he  bade  him. 

"  Are  n't  you  sleepy  ? " 


270  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Not  a  bit.  Fact  is,  I  miss  Jack.  We  used  to 
talk  till  all  hours."  As  he  spoke,  Rob  moved  a  chair 
forward,  then  dropped  into  another  chair,  clasped 
his  hands  behind  his  head,  straightened  out  his  weak 
knee  and  prepared  for  a  comfortable  gossip. 

"  Beastly  shame  about  him !  "  Paul  strolled  across 
the  floor  and  dropped  down  in  the  chair  awaiting 
him.  "  By  Jove,  Argyle,  it 's  good  to  have  you  back 
again !  "  he  observed  contentedly. 

Rob  laughed. 

"  On  the  principle  that  any  old  thing  is  better 
than  nothing  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,  when  it 's  masculine.  I  like  girls  —  with 
intermissions ;  but  not  too  many  all  at  once,  nor  yet 
when  they  are  on  their  nerves." 

"  It 's  been  a  little  murky  now  and  then  ?  " 

"  Rather !  I  never  would  have  stayed  it  out,  you 
know,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Tids,  coupled  with  a 
general  desire  to  see  fair  play." 

"You  think  the  fault  —  " 

"  Was  Janet's,"  Paul  said  conclusively.  "  Of 
course,  Jack  brought  the  matter  to  a  direct  issue. 
Then,  what  made  it  whole  lots  worse,  the  girls  all 
turned  hysterical  and  argued  round  and  round  the 
subject,  till  Jack  and  I  both  were  half  dazed  by  the 
delicate  things  they  did  n't  say." 

"Hm!     Well.     Then?" 

Paul  laughed  shortly,  while  he  rubbed  his  fingers 
through  and  through  his  hair  till  it  was  all  on  end. 

"  Then  I  gritted  my  teeth  and  had  it  out  in  plain. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  271 


Saxon:  that  we  cared  enough  about  the  fellow  him- 
self not  to  mind  it,  if  he  were  stoker,  barring  a 
natural  regret  for  his  complexion.  It  was  rather 
like  slugging  your  dearest  friend  in  the  face;  but 
it  was  best  to  have  it  over  and  done  with.  Now  we 
know  where  we  all  stand." 

"  Including  Janet,"  Kob  assented,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  Not  she." 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  Too  unreliable,"  Paul  answered  briefly. 

Rob  sat  up  abruptly  and  unclasped  his  hands. 

"Hang  it,  Paul!  That's  not  fair,"  he  made 
remonstrance. 

"  It  is,  then.  If  lying  does  n't  make  a  girl  un- 
reliable, then  I  don't  know  what  does.  And  you 
know,  yourself,  that  Janet  lied,  to  all  intents  and 
purposes,  to  Gladys  Horth." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  of  the  sort,"  Rob  con- 
tradicted him  just  a  little  sternly.  "  Please  tell  me 
where  Gladys  Horth  comes  in." 

Suddenly  Paul  turned  scarlet  and  clapped  his 
hands  across  his  mouth. 

"  Oh.  thunderation !  "  he  exclaimed,  through  the 
muffling  barrier  of  his  fingers.  "  Tids  told  me  that 
you  were  n't  to  know,  and  here  I  've  been  and  made 
a  mess  of  the  whole  thing !  " 

"  I  think  perhaps,"  Rob  told  him  gravely ;  "  you  'd 
best  go  on  now  and  tell  me  what  you  mean.  You  've 
gone  too  far  to  make  it  quite  fair  to  anybody  to  stop 
just  at  this  point." 


272  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Paul  heaved  a  sigh,  ostensibly  of  remorse,  really 
of  relief. 

"  As  you  say,"  he  answered  meekly.  "  I  suppose 
I  ought  to  be  a  pulp  of  penitence,  after  the  break 
I  've  made ;  but  it  really  will  be  a  comfort  to  talk 
the  whole  mess  over  with  another  chap.  Of  course, 
there  was  Jack;  but  he  was  a  little  bit  too  nearly 
concerned  to  be  the  best  sort  of  dumping  ground  for 
one's  reflections.  If  you  really  want  to  know  the 
whole  blamed  business,  then  here  goes."  And 
straightway  he  launched  into  the  story. 

Before  they  separated,  that  night,  Rob  was  in  full 
possession  of  all  the  facts.  Before  breakfast,  next 
morning,  he  had  imparted  them  to  Day.  Breakfast 
over,  the  brother  and  sister  sought  their  hats  and 
gloves.  Then  they  sought  Gladys  Horth. 

They  found  her  on  the  strip  of  lawn  before  her 
house,  and  Day  lost  no  time  in  coming  to  the  point. 
Instead  of  that,  she  waved  aside  Gladys'  salutations 
rather  brusquely,  and  followed  her  hostess  to  the 
house. 

"  No ;  I  'd  rather  come  inside,  if  you  don't  mind," 
she  answered  the  suggestion  of  Gladys  that  they  sit 
down  on  the  lawn  where  they  could  enjoy  the  view. 
"  We  can  talk  better  there,  without  being  afraid  of 
being  interrupted." 

%  Accustomed  as,  by  this  time,  she  had  become  to 
American  directness,  Gladys  yet  looked  a  little 
startled.  For  once,  Day  Argyle  was  too  much  in 
earnest  to  pay  much  attention  to  such  small  ques- 


"  They  found  her  on  the  strip  of  lawn  before  her  house." 
—  Page  272. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  273 

tions  as  that  of  tact,  and  her  manner  was  unduly 
pugnacious. 

"  Certainly,"  Gladys  assented,  with  becoming 
meekness.  Then  she  led  the  way  inside  the  drawing- 
room. 

"  I  came,"  Day  announced  directly,  as  soon  as  they 
were  seated ;  "  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you  about 
Jack  Blanchard." 

"  Mr.  Blanchard  ?  "  Gladys  echoed,  plainly  mysti- 
fied. In  her  mystification,  she  glanced  at  Rob. 

Day  intercepted  the  glance,  and  made  her  own 
interpretation  of  it. 

"  My  brother  feels  as  I  do,"  she  said  quickly. 
"  And,  of  course,  what  one  of  us  knows,  the  other 
is  sure  to.  We  came  back  here,  yesterday,  to  find 
there  had  been  some  grand  misunderstanding  about 
Jack,  and  we  thought  we  'd  better  come  to  the  point 
at  once.  Before  he  was  in  my  father's  office,  for 
a  few  years  he  was  conductor  of  a  sleeping-car,  a 
splendidly  efficient  conductor,  they  all  say.  Rob  knew 
him  then.  Now  he  is  my  father's  secretary.  More 
than  that,  though,  he  makes  his  home  with  us,  and 
is  our  —  Rob's  and  my  —  best  friend." 

Concise  and  uncompromising  as  a  declaration  of 
war,  she  threw  the  words  at  Gladys  Horth.  Gladys 
received  them  unflinchingly. 

"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"  What  of  it !  "  Day  stared  at  her  in  stupefaction. 
"  Janet  Leslie  told  our  girls  that  you  —  all  you 
Canadian  girls  —  would  cut  him,  if  you  knew  it." 

18 


274  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Gladys  shook  her  head. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  said  serenely.  "  He  's  quite  too 
nice  for  that.  We  like  him,  all  of  us."  Suddenly 
her  serenity  broke  into  something  as  much  like  ani- 
mation as  Gladys  Horth  could  show.  "  Was  that  the 
reason  Janet  —  "  She  paused,  seeking  a  word  which 
should  be  both  polite  and  accurate. 

"  Fibbed  ?  "  Day  saw  no  need  for  mincing  mat- 
ters. "  Yes,  it  was." 

"Keally?  How  very  funny!"  And  to  Kob's 
amusement  and  to  Day's  supreme  disgust,  Gladys 
went  off  into  a  peal  of  laughter.  When  she  could 
speak  again,  "  If  that  is  n't  Janet  all  over !  "  she 
observed. 

This  time,  Day  veered  round  to  the  support  of  the 
absent  Janet. 

"  Not  as  I  have  ever  known  her,"  she  responded. 

"  Then  you  've  really  never  known  her,"  Gladys 
retorted  flatly,  yet  with  no  hint  of  bitterness  in  her 
tone.  "  I  've  been  friends  with  Janet,  since  we  were 
babies.  Every  now  and  then  she  does  this  kind  of 
thing.  When  she  's  very  tired,  she  seems  to  lose  her 
balance,  and  think  things  about  people,  distrust  them 
a  little  bit.  It  has  made  some  frightful  quarrels, 
while  they  lasted;  and  yet,"  she  added  generously; 
"  when  it  is  all  over,  there  is  n't  a  girl  in  the  whole 
world  quicker  to  admit  she  's  wrong  and  say  she  's 
sorry  than  Janet  Leslie." 

"No,"  Day  answered  quickly.  "No;  there 
isn't" 


JANET  AT  ODDS  275 

"  Besides  that,"  Gladys  spoke  thoughtfully,  her 
eyes  upon  the  carpet ;  "  I  suppose  it  does  change  the 
looks  of  things,  the  side  from  which  you  look  at 
them.  If  you  and  I  had  to  —  to  give  up  a  good 
share  of  our  fun,  and  pinch  and  scrimp  and  grind 
to  get  along,  and,  all  the  time,  watch  our  old  friends 
having  things  and  doing  things  and  —  Really,  I 
fancy  we  'd  get  to  thinking  things  as  Janet  does." 

Rob  had  sat  silent  heretofore,  listening  and  study- 
ing the  two  girls  so  totally  unlike,  thanking  provi- 
dence that  Day  was  the  one  to  be  his  sister.  Now, 
his  blue  eyes  fixed  on  Gladys'  face  in  manifest  ap- 
proval, he  came  to  her  support. 

"  Miss  Horth,  you  've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head. 
We  don't  know  much  about  it ;  but,  if  we  've  any 
common  sense,  we  must  admit  that  Janet  Leslie  is 
a  plucky  little  chap,  and  deserves  to  have  her  sins 
forgiven,  for  the  sake  of  the  way  she  's  trying  to 
make  the  best  of  a  bad  matter." 

"  And  she  does  try,  too,"  Gladys  assented  swiftly. 
"  She  's  worked  like  a  little  slave,  all  summer  long. 
I  know  more  than  you  do  about  that.  When  she 
begged  off  from  going  out  with  you,  it  usually  was 
because  she  had  to  go  into  that  hot  kitchen  or  help 
Elsie  upstairs.  It 's  a  huge  house,  and  there  were 
a  small  army  of  you  to  look  out  for.  As  a  natural 
consequence,  she  was  all  tired  out,  and  cross,  and 
discouraged.  The  summer  has  n't  come  out,  anyway, 
just  as  Janet  hoped.  She  had  been  counting  so  much 
on  Paul,  and,  when  he  came,  they  did  n't  hit  it  off 


276  JANET  AT  ODDS 


together  at  all.  That  fretted  her,  in  the  first  place, 
and,  just  as  that  was  getting  over  the  worst,  Lady 
Wadhams  appeared  and  upset  her  again.  Finally, 
Mr.  Blanchard  ran  against  one  of  her  pet  prejudices 
—  for  the  Leslies  always  did  draw  their  lines  a  little 
closer  than  the  rest  of  us  did.  That  was  the  reason 
she  took  it  all  out  on  him  so." 

"  And  made  you  the  cat's  paw  ? "  Rob  queried, 
with  a  bluntness  that  was  belied  by  the  liking  in  his 
eyes. 

Gladys  laughed  lightly. 

"  Me  ?  I  don't  mind.  I  know  Janet,  and  that 
her  growl  is  the  most  dangerous  thing  about  her. 
She  never  really  bites." 

Day  shook  her  head. 

"  I  am  afraid  she  has,  this  time.  What  is  more, 
she  has  hurt." 

Gladys'  face  changed  instantly. 

"  You  think  Mr.  Blanchard  knew  about  it  ? " 

Day  stiffened  a  little. 

"  He  came  up  here  to  spend  the  summer  with  us 
all.  He  is  boarding  at  the  Saint  Louis  now,  when- 
ever he  is  in  town,"  she  said  incisively. 

"  But  if  he  likes  it  better  ?  "  Gladys  urged.  "  Of 
course,  I  thought  it  was  a  queer  thing  for  him  to 
do ;  but  if  he  really  felt  it  was  more  convenient  ? " 

Day's  answer  was  uncompromising. 

"  I  don't  see  how  it  could  be  much  more  conven- 
ient. The  houses  are  only  two  blocks  apart ;  and  his 
quarters  were  certainly  quite  as  comfortable  at  Janet's 


JANET  AT  ODDS  277 

as  at  the  hotel.  As  far  as  his  liking  it  better  is  con- 
cerned, though,  he  naturally  would  prefer  not  to  stay 
where  he  certainly  was  n't  wanted." 

Gladys  hesitated.     Then,  — 

"  I  am  afraid  I  don't  quite  understand  about  it, 
after  all,"  she  said  a  little  plaintively.  "  It  all  seems 
very  much  mixed  up." 

There  was  a  little  pause,  while  Day  looked  across 
at  Rob.  He  nodded,  and  then  they  set  to  work  to- 
gether to  make  her  understand. 

When,  an  hour  later,  the  Argyles  rose  to  take  their 
leave,  Day  held  out  her  hand  to  her  hostess  with 
a  better  liking  than  she  ever  had  thought  it  possible 
to  gain  towards  this  young  Canadian  girl  whoso 
reticence  rendered  her  seemingly  so  smug.  Together, 
they  had  talked  the  situation  over  to  its  very  founda- 
tions, had  discussed  in  detail  and  in  singular  agree- 
ment Jack's  place  among  them,  Janet's  character. 
Now  and  then  Rob  put  in  a  word ;  but,  for  the  most 
part,  he  sat  back  and  left  the  talk  to  the  others. 
Liking  Janet  and  adoring  Jack,  he  yet  felt  he  could 
safely  leave  them  both  in  the  just  hands  of  the  two 
young  girls. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Gladys  told  them,  as  they  rose  to 
go ;  "  if  I  've  been  at  all  to  blame  in  this  thing.  I 
did  n't  mean  to ;  I  supposed  Janet  knew  me  better. 
Now  I  think  it  over,  though,  I  can  see  how  I  may 
have  started  the  whole  trouble  by  my  asking  where 
you  first  picked  Jack  up." 

Day  laughed. 


278  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Really,  now  you  think  of  it,  you  must  admit  it 
was  n't  a  complimentary  phrase,"  she  said,  with  all 
her  old,  gay  directness.  "  No  wonder  Janet  took  it 
all  askew." 

"  No,"  Gladys  admitted  frankly ;  "  I  don't  wonder 
in  the  least.  I  don't  think  I  ever  realized  till  now, 
though,  just  how  much  trouble  a  phrase  like  that 
could  make.  Mr.  Blanchard  was  a  stranger  to  me; 
I  was  sure  I  recognized  him,  and  I  was  curious  to 
know  how  he  came  to  be  with  you  all.  I  used  the 
first  words  that  popped  into  my  head,  just  as  I  'd 
have  done  with  any  stranger  I  was  n't  likely  to  see 
again.  By  the  time  I  was  acquainted  with  him,  I 
had  forgotten  all  about  it.  You  will  believe  so  much ; 
won't  you  ?  "  Her  glance  included  them  both. 

Day  held  out  her  hand  impulsively. 

"  So  much  so  that  I  can't  be  glad  enough  we  came," 
she  answered.  "  It  was  Rob's  idea.  I  thought  we 
did  n't  know  you  well  enough ;  but  he  was  bound  to 
go  to  the  bottom  of  the  thing,  before  he  attacked 
Janet." 

Gladys  shook  her  head  a  little. 

"  Be  as  gentle  as  you  can,"  she  urged.  "  Remem- 
ber how  tired  she  is,  and  —  all  the  rest." 

"  I  will,"  Day  promised  gravely.  "  But  then,  you 
see,  there  's  Jack." 

"  I  know."  Gladys  spoke  swiftly.  "  And  there 
is  also  myself.  I  was  a  good  deal  to  blame  for  the 
whole  thing,  even  if  I  did  n't  mean  it.  I  knew  Janet, 
how  she  dwells  on  things  the  rest  of  us  forget  all 


JANET  AT  ODDS  279 

about.  I  ought  to  have  been  more  careful  about  my 
words.  But  one  can  make  so  much  trouble,  without 
intending  it  in  the  very  least;  and  I  suppose  I  did 
sound  snippy."  She  shook  her  head  at  the  rug,  as 
if  it  had  been  the  culprit.  "  Really,  I  believe  I  have 
been  about  as  much  to  blame  as  Janet.  I  only  wish 
I  could  do  something  now  to  help  mend  matters." 
Suddenly  she  looked  up,  her  eyes  alert  with  a  new 
idea.  "  When  does  he  get  through  with  this  thing  ?  " 
she  asked. 

"  Not  for  a  week  longer,  at  the  very  least." 

"  A  week.  Let  me  see.  When  do  you  all  go 
back?" 

"  The  first  of  September.  At  least,"  Day  laughed ; 
"  it  depends  on  circumstances." 

Gladys  understood,  as  her  answering  laugh  be- 
tokened. 

"  As  far  as  that  goes,  I  hope  it  will  be  a  good 
deal  later,"  she  said  heartily.  "  What 's  more,  I 
think  it  may  be.  I  saw  Janet,  yesterday,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  her  superiority  was  breaking  up  a  little 
bit;  I  thought  she  even  seemed  a  bit  depressed. 
That  has  always  been  the  sign  the  worst  was  over. 
But,  to  go  back  to  Mr.  Blanchard:  do  you  happen 
to  know  what  are  his  nights  in  town  ? " 

"  Happen  we  do,"  Rob  answered  promptly.  "He  's 
here  on  Tuesday  and  Friday ;  you  '11  get  him  at  the 
Saint  Louis,  when  he  is  n't  with  us  on  the  terrace." 
He  laughed,  as  he  raised  his  yellow  brows  in  mute 
suggestion.  "  You  might  come,  too,"  he  added. 


280  JANET  AT  ODDS 


"  Thanks.  Perhaps  I  will.  Tuesdays  and  Fridays  ? 
Very  well,  I  '11  remember.  Must  you  go  ? "  She 
gave  her  hand  to  Day  and  then  to  Rob.  "  I  'm  glad 
you  came  to  talk  it  over,"  she  said  simply.  "  I  find 
it  always  best." 

Side  by  side,  the*  brother  and  sister  left  the  house, 
turned  southward  and  went  loitering  around  the 
Ramparts.  When  they  were  safely  out  of  hearing,  — 

"  Day,"  Rob  said,  with  slow  deliberation ;  "  that 
is  a  girl." 


CHAPTER   TWENTY 

MEANWHILE,  inside  the  Leslie  house  in  Louis 
Street,  a  new  interest  had  arisen,  threatening 
at  times  to  obliterate  even  the  thought  of  Jack. 
After  all  said  and  done,  the  skirmishing  once  ended, 
there  was  a  certain  monotony  in  what  Amy  Browne 
termed  the  Blanchard  crisis.  The  newer,  interest 
never  at  any  single  instant  held  in  its  make-up  the 
germ  of  monotony.  It  was  far-reaching,  absorbing; 
it  engrossed  them  one  and  all,  destroyed  their  leisure, 
modified  their  comfort,  and  always  and  ever  it  in- 
sisted upon  holding  their  attention,  whether  they 
would  or  no.  Its  source  was  the  stranger  baby;  its 
circumference  was  measured  by  the  outside  limits 
of  the  entire  household,  including  Mary  Browne. 

From  the  hour  of  his  advent,  shrieking  and  trying 
to  stand  on  his  head  in  the  arms  of  Paul,  Amy  Pope 
had  stoutly  maintained  that  she  merely  had  borrowed 
the  child  for  a  few  days,  in  order  to  fit  him  to  some 
seemly  garments.  The  fitting,  however,  took  a  vast 
amount  of  time,  the  more  so  as  all  the  garments 
obtainable  in  the  shops  at  once  became  unseemly, 
viewed  in  the  critical  eyes  of  a  quartette  of  girls 
brought  up  in  French  lingerie  nighties  with  real  lace 
frills.  Janet  sniffed,  pronouncing  anything  good 
enough  for  a  Saint  Sauveur  baby.  Sidney  merely 


282  JANET  AT  ODDS 

laughed  and  held  her  peace.  The  others,  treating 
the  squirming  child  as  a  vast  and  unwieldy  sort  of 
doll,  ransacked  the  shops  for  baby  finery,  tried  it  on, 
despite  the  remonstrances  of  the  child  who  seemed 
loath  to  part  with  his  single  outing  flannel  garment, 
shook  their  heads  and  proceeded  to  find  objections. 
And  this  state  of  things,  beginning  at  noon,  four  days 
before,  was  showing  no  sign  of  cessation  when  Rob 
and  Day  came  strolling  homeward  from  their  call 
on  Gladys. 

"  Paul's  infant  prodigy  is  tuning  up  again," 
Rob  offered  observation  as,  at  his  sister's  side,  he 
rounded  the  corner  out  of  Garden  Street.  "  Jove, 
Day,  what  a  hurdy-gurdy  that  kid's  lungs  would 
make!" 

"  Or  bagpipes,"  she  amended.  "  It 's  a  good  deal 
more  like  that.  What  do  you  suppose  Amy  means 
to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  She  said  she  only  borrowed  him  long  enough 
to  —  " 

"  Equip  him  with  a  wardrobe,"  Day  struck  in. 
"  Yes,  I  heard  that  fable,  yesterday.  I  also  saw  a 
heap  of  clothes  in  Amy's  room,  clothes  enough  to 
stock  an  infant  class  in  Sunday  school.  That  will 
do  to  tell;  but  what  she  really  means  to  do  with 
him  is  a  mystery." 

Rob  lifted  his  brows. 

"  She  can't  covet  him  for  his  charm  of  manner," 
he  remarked.  "  Moreover,  from  my  own  memory  of 
the  quarter  where  he  has  been  residing,  the  last  few 


JANET  AT  ODDS  283 

weeks,  I  have  an  impression  that  frilly  clothes  are  n't 
a  necessity,  if  she  means  to  send  him  back." 

"  Asylums  provide  their  own  clothes,"  Day  added. 
"  "What  can  she  be  going  to  do  with  him  ?  " 

"  Something  wild  and  different,"  Rob  predicted. 
"  You  can't  do  much  foretelling,  when  it 's  a  case 
of  Amy  Pope ;  but  at  least,  you  can  be  mighty  cer- 
tain there  's  something  bound  to  be  doing,  whenever 
Amy  takes  a  hand.  Meanwhile,  have  you  heard  the 
Dame  offering  any  observations  ?  " 

"  Not  about  him.  She  's  terribly  chastened  and 
sniffly  about  dear  old  Jack.  In  fact,  I  rather  think, 
from  her  general  air  of  penitential  meekness,  that  she 
accepts  the  infant  as  a  special,  back-handed  punish- 
ment meted  out  to  her  to  make  up  for  Jack's  sins." 

"  I  say,  Day,"  Rob  spoke  reflectively ;  "  has  it  ever 
occurred  to  you  to  rejoice  and  give  thanks  that  our 
mother  stands,  heels  down,  and  also  has  some  sense 
of  humour  ?  " 

Day  turned  the  white  of  one  eye  on  him.  Then 
she  thrust  her  hand  inside  his  arm. 

"  Rob !  How  disrespectful !  But  —  has  n't  it  till 
now  to  you  ?  " 

"  Bet !  "  Rob  answered  concisely.  Then  he  pointed 
to  the  upper  windows  with  his  stick,  for  by  now  they 
had  reached  the  Leslie  house.  "  Party  's  going  on, 
up  there,"  he  added.  "  What 's  more,  it  seems  to 
be  a  strenuous  sort  of  session.  I  say,  Aurora  dear- 
est, what  if  we  pass  by  on  the  other  side,  and  go 
take  a  little  drive  ?  For  my  taste,  this  infant's  sing- 


284  JANET  AT  ODDS 

ing  is  rather  too  much  after  Wagner.  In  fact,  I 
begin  to  think  that  Wagner  may  end  by  getting 
licked." 

"  I  wish  the  child  would,"  Day  said  vindictively. 

Meanwhile,  within  the  house,  the  scene  indeed  was 
waxing  strenuous ;  yet,  for  all  that,  it  was  not  unique. 
The  past  four  days  had  taught  Paul  and  the  girls 
a  good  many  new  lessons  in  infant  psychology;  and, 
the  worst  of  it  was,  the  psychology  appeared  to  them 
to  be  one  enormous,  concentrated  joke.  Bewashed, 
becurled,  befrilled,  the  baby  had  ceased  to  be  soggy 
and  unattractive-looking;  he  was  undeniably  clever, 
and  his  force  of  character  was  astounding,  astound- 
ing, too,  his  skill  in  setting  forth  in  intelligible,  al- 
though wordless,  phrases  the  results  of  his  infant 
meditations.  Just  why  he  should  repine  for  his  old 
surroundings  it  would  be  hard  to  say,  for  he  was  fed 
and  clothed  as  never  before,  and  he  was  constantly 
surrounded  by  at  least  three  eager  nurses,  while  the 
neighbour  had  testified  by  way  of  the  policeman  that 
apparently  he  had  not  deigned  to  give  a  thought  to 
his  departed  family.  Nevertheless,  he  did  repine,  not 
querulously,  but  with  full-lunged,  full-throated,  vehe- 
ment decision.  In  other  words,  he  kicked  against 
the  pricks,  and  his  kickings  were  by  no  means  always 
of  the  spirit.  It  took  the  entire  time  of  at  least  one 
person  to  keep  him  even  mildly  acquiescent;  but, 
with  a  whole  half-dozen  junior  nurses  eager  to  take 
their  turn,  he  had  no  lack  of  care. 

To  be  sure,  these  junior  nurses  were  not  always 


JANET  AT  ODDS  285 

wholly  sympathetic.  They  made  him  as  comfortable 
as  lay  within  their  power,  far,  far  more  comfortable 
than  he  had  ever  been  of  old;  but,  that  done,  they 
laughed  at  his  repinings,  made  merry  over  his  grim- 
aces, and  obviously  rejoiced  when  he  stretched  forth 
his  lusty  little  legs  and  kicked  at  them  angrily,  as 
they  drew  near  to  offer  food  and  toys.  All  in  all, 
he  was  not  a  pleasant  baby  to  have  about.  Never- 
theless, the  girls  assumed  the  care  of  him  hilariously, 
and  proceeded  to  make  the  best  of  him,  while  Amy 
Pope  decided  what  to  do  next. 

"  It 's  just  exactly  the  way  my  Boston  terrier 
puppy  behaved,  when  I  first  had  him,"  Amy  Browne 
sighed,  the  second  night.  "  For  the  first  week,  he 
yelped  every  single  instant,  day  and  night,  yelped 
and  tore  the  furniture  to  pieces.  Really,  I  thought 
we  never  could  live  through  it,  and  I  have  n't  been 
through  such  an  experience  since,  till  now." 

Paul  echoed  her  sigh. 

"  I  should  think  once  would  have  been  quite 
enough,"  he  suggested. 

"  It  was,  quite.  And  yet,  this  infant  is  funny. 
Besides,  you  have  n't  anything  to  say.  It  was  you 
who  brought  him  down  on  all  our  heads.  What  do 
you  suppose  —  " 

"Well?"  Paul  jogged  her. 

Amy  changed  her  accent,  seeking  to  lay  even  greater 
stress  upon  her  question. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  Amy  ever  means  to  do 
with  him?" 


286  JANET  AT  ODDS 


Paul  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Ask  Amy,"  he  responded  tersely. 

And  they  did  ask  Amy,  at  least  forty  times  a  day ; 
but  a  smile  was  the  only  answer  she  vouchsafed  to 
all  their  questions.  At  last,  however,  towards  the 
close  of  the  sixth  day,  she  did  grant  to  Kob  Argyle 
some  meagre  satisfaction. 

"  Feed  him  up  a  little  till  he  gets  fat ;  have  Elsie 
scour  him  till  he  is  enough  accustomed  to  the  process 
not  to  look  too  shiny  afterwards,  and  then  get  him 
a  little  fitted  to  his  clothes." 

"  And  then  ?  " 

Amy  laughed. 

"  Then  ?     Then  we  '11  see." 

"  Amy,  you  fraud !  "  Day  interposed,  from  her 
seat  across  the  room.  "  You  Ve  something  in  your 
brain.  Out  with  it." 

"  It  would  swamp  you  —  utterly,"  Amy  answered 
gravely.  "  I  should  hate  to  see  you  swamped." 

"  I  don't  mean  everything  you  know ;  only  just 
about  the  baby." 

Amy  smiled  at  her  benevolently. 

"  He  is  mine,  by  right  of  possession.  The  police 
gave  him  to  Paul.  Paul  presented  him  to  me.  The 
rest  I  '11  tell  you,  when  I  get  ready." 

"  Then  there  really  is  a  rest  ? " 

"  Not  at  night,"  Kob  interposed.  "  He  goes 
beddy-by  exactly  under  me,  and  —  Really,  Amy,  I 
am  just  learning  that,  in  comparison  with  some  things, 
snoring  can  be  sweet  music." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  287 

"  Does  he  carouse,  all  night  long,  Rob  ? "  Day 
queried.  "  I  should  n't  suppose  he  'd  have  enough 
vitality  to  keep  it  up,  the  whole  twenty-four  hours." 

"  I  thought  it  was  he  that  I  heard,"  Rob  said 
guardedly.  "  Of  course,  it  might  have  been — there  's 
no  sure  telling  from  the  room  overhead  —  it  might 
have  been  Mrs.  Blanchard." 

"  Poor  Mrs.  Blanchard !  "  Day's  voice  was  full  of 
thoughtful  chiding.  "  Does  n't  your  conscience  ever 
prick  you,  Amy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  now  and  then  a  little  bit,"  Amy  made  an- 
swer grimly.  "  However,  Mrs.  Blanchard  is  the 
unconscious  means  to  a  good  end.  Besides,  when  I 
think  of  Jack  —  "  She  paused ;  then  added,  with 
apparent  inconsequence,  "  And  this  child  is  n't  very 
gentlemanly,  either." 

But  Amy  was  a  little  less  remorseless  in  the  matter 
than  she  sounded.  Although  an  unconscious  means 
to  some  good  end,  Mrs.  Blanchard  was  by  no  means 
an  unwilling  one.  She  was  of  the 'mental  feather- 
bolster  type  of  woman,  one  whose  first  conviction  on 
beholding  a  baby  was  that  no  one  else  could  take  one 
half  so  good  care  of  it  as  she  herself.  It  never 
would  have  occurred  to  her  in  the  first  place  to  annex 
a  baby  of  unknown  ancestry  and  too  easily  discov- 
ered disposition.  Now  that  Amy  Pope  had  annexed 
one,  however,  she  promptly  brushed  aside  all  inter- 
ference and,  in  essential  matters,  she  assumed  it  as 
her  own  especial  care.  That  is  to  say,  she  put  in 
pins  and  tied  up  strings;  she  prescribed  his  proper 


288  JANET  AT  ODDS 


diet,  and  she  ordained  that,  at  a  fixed  and  suitable 
hour,  he  should  be  put  to  bed.  At  that  exact  point, 
however,  her  jurisdiction  stopped.  Xot  all  the  Mrs. 
Blanchards  in  creation,  although  armed  with  sooth- 
ing syrups  by  the  pint,  could  coerce  the  baby  into 
going  to  sleep  against  his  will.  Moreover,  his  infant 
lungs  operated  to  the  very  best  advantage,  when  he 
lay  prone  on  top  of  the  blanket  he  had  promptly 
kicked  aside. 

Mrs.  Blanch  ard  was  past  seventy,  and  fragile. 
None  the  less,  she  bore  her  new  burden  valiantly, 
and  stuck  to  it  that  the  child  must  sleep  in  a  .crib 
beside  her  bed;  that  he  merely  fretted  just  a  little 
bit,  but  that  it  did  not  disturb  her  in  the  least.  Per- 
haps, after  all,  there  was  a  grain  of  truth  in  her 
assertion.  It  might  have  been  that  the  fretting, 
fussing  baby  boy  served  to  break  the  dull  monotony 
of  the  long,  wakeful  hours  when  she  lay  and  thought 
of  her  own  boy  who,  against  her  will,  but  for  the 
sake  of  conscience,  was  riding,  riding,  the  whole 
night  through.  It  might  have  been  even  a  relief 
when  an  infant  temper  distracted  her  mind  from 
watching  the  slow  passing  of  the  moments  from  two 
o'clock  to  three,  from  thinking  of  her  Jack,  sitting 
in  a  corner  of  the  car,  tired  out,  dull  and  alone,  and 
waiting  with  what  patience  he  could  gather  up  out 
of  the  tedious  day,  for  the  coming  of  the  time  when 
the  regulations  of  his  uniform  allowed  him  to  turn 
in.  As  a  rule,  both  Mrs.  Blanchard  and  the  baby 
had  their  soundest  sleep,  after  three  o'clock. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  289 

But  Jack,  meanwhile,  was  by  no  means  wholly 
wretched.  True,  his  hours  were  long,  his  duties 
tiresome,  his  passengers  a  good  deal  of  a  bore. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  a  certain  interest  in  fitting 
himself  back  into  the  well-remembered  groove,  in 
seeing  it  fit  itself  about  him;  in  finding  out,  best 
of  all,  that  his  years  of  prosperous  growth,  instead 
of  spoiling  him  for  the  old  task,  had  trained  him 
until  he  seemed  to  know  by  instinct  just  how  to 
make  the  very  most  of  it.  It  was  as  if  his  groove 
had  broadened  with  his  own  broadening.  Phases 
of  his  work  which,  in  the  old  days,  never  would  have 
occurred  to  him  as  being  necessary,  or  even  possible, 
now  appeared  to  him  mere  matters  of  routine. 

Apart  from  that,  and  even  more  good  were  the 
greetings  which  met  him,  all  up  and  down  the  line: 
the  flash  of  white  teeth  shining  out  from  the  coal- 
streaked  face  of  a  passing  stoker,  the  grip  of  a  hand, 
hurriedly  wiped  on  a  bunch  of  cotton  waste,  the 
sheepish  grin  of  the  old  waiter  at  the  breakfast 
station,  as  he  slid  on  to  Jack's  plate  the  juiciest  cut 
of  steak,  the  hilarious  greeting  of  an  old-time  pas- 
senger: all  these  things  assured  Jack  Blanchard  that 
a  well-made  place  is  never  really  filled  by  any  out- 
sider. And  then,  when  he  came  back  to  the  city, 
often  and  often  to  find  Paul  or  Rob  on  the  platform 
as  the  train  came  in,  he  never  was  really  sure  whether 
his  best  times  lay  in  his  long  evenings  on  the  ter- 
race with  his  well-tried  friends,  or  in  his  ten-minute 
calls  at  the  Jeffrey  Hale  where  Savarin,  his  anxiety 

19 


290  JANET  AT  ODDS 


in  part  allayed,  was  making  daily  strides  towards 
the  regaining  of  his  health. 

There  was  pleasure  in  all  these  things;  not  sanc- 
tified joy,  but  real  honest,  human  pleasure.  Ac- 
cordingly, it  was  with  a  little  feeling  of  regret,  one 
noon,  that  Jack  took  from  the  clerk  at  the  Saint 
Louis  a  note  from  Mr.  Argyle. 

"  I  think  your  experiment,  from  all  accounts,  has 
been  a  grand  success,"  the  letter  ran ;  "  and  I  can't 
be  glad  enough  that  you  undertook  it.  It  doesn't 
do  us  any  harm  to  make  sure,  now  and  then,  that 
we  can  step  back  into  our  old  shoes,  and,  what 's  more, 
walk  off  in  them  without  tripping  up.  However,  as 
long  as  you  're  coming  back  to  the  office  on  the  first, 
I  think  perhaps  you  'd  best  stop  running  about  the 
country.  You  'd  best  send  in  your  resignation,  then, 
for  the  end  of  the  week.  Rob  and  Day  are  getting 
restless  without  you,  and  I  want  them  to  stay  on 
up  there  and  finish  out  the  summer.  And,  by  the 
way,  will  you  please  endorse  this  check  over  to  the 
Savarin  baby  ?  I  did  n't  know  the  name ;  but  you  can 
put  it  through,  all  right."  And  the  letter  ended, 
after  a  word  of  liking  and  good  will  so  personal  that 
Jack  was  never  willing  to  quote  it. 

Still  standing  by  the  desk,  the  note  in  one  hand, 
the  check  in  the  other,  Jack  was  aroused  from  his 
reverie  by  being  summoned  to  the  telephone  to  an- 
swer a  call  from  Gladys  Horth. 

A  little  later  on,  Gladys  called  up  Janet.  In  due 
season,  Janet  reported  the  call  to  the  group  of  girls 


JANET  AT  ODDS  291 

~  \ 

who  were  trying  to  coax  the  baby  not  to  make  a 

double  bow-knot  of  himself  while  Irene  was  seeking 
to  put  on  him  a  fresh  white  frock.  The  fresh  white 
frock's  predecessor  lay  upon  the  floor  with  milk  and 
dark  green  ink  struggling  for  mastery  upon  its  sodden 
surface. 

"  I  was  only  just  offering  him  a  little  drink,"  Amy 
Browne  said  apologetically,  while  she  gathered  up 
the  dripping  front  breadth  of  her  pale  pink  muslin 
skirt.  "  He  cried,  and  we  had  given  him  everything 
else  in  vain,  so  I  supposed  he  must  be  hungry.  How 
could  I  know  it  would  go  on  his  nerves  like  this  ? " 

"  What  did  he  do,  anyway,  Miss  Amy  ?  "  Mary 
Browne  queried  from  the  threshold,  where  she  stood 
waiting  to  receive  the  discarded  frock. 

"  Knocked  the  milk  out  of  my  hand,  and  then 
kicked  the  ink  off  the  table  on  top  of  us  both.  I 
wish  I  knew  who  left  the  stuff  uncorked !  "  Amy  said 
vindictively,  for  she  hated  unneatness  of  any  kind, 
and  even  the  least  critical  of  victims  would  have 
felt  that  ink  and  milk  and  pink  muslin  breadths  do 
not  make  an  attractive  combination. 

"  I  did  it,"  Sidney  confessed.  "  I  was  marking 
some  new  pages  in  my  photograph  book.  Really, 
Amy,  I  'm  very  sorry ;  but  I  never  supposed  he 
could  kick  so  far." 

"  Kick !  He  'd  kick  the  moon,"  Amy  made  testy 
answer.  "  I  don't  mind  my  gown ;  it 's  on  its  second 
season,  but  do  look  at  the  rug.  What  do  you  suppose 
Janet  will  say  ?  " 


292  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  She  's  here  to  speak  for  herself,"  Paul  announced, 
from  the  window-seat  where  he  sat  watching  the 
infant  cyclone  whirl  along  its  pathway.  "  Look  there, 
Janet,  and  behold!  Now  out  with  it,  and  say  your 
say  frankly,  like  a  little  man." 

But  Janet  disdained  the  question  of  the  rug. 
Instead,  — 

"  Gladys  is  holding  the  wire  to  know  whether 
we  '11  all  go  down  there  to  spend  the  evening," 
she  announced.  "  Is  there  any  reason  we  can't 
go?" 

Paul  frowned  at  Amy  Pope,  who  frowned  back 
at  him  malignly. 

"  What  about  Jack  ?  "  he  asked,  too  low  for  the 
others  to  hear. 

Amy  shrugged  her  shoulders. 

"  No  use.  We  're  bound  to  go.  Remember  that 
nowadays  it 's  peace  at  any  price." 

Sidney's  eye,  meanwhile,  was  going  from  face  to 
face  around  the  group. 

"All  right,  Janet.  Tell  her  we'll  all  go  with 
pleasure,"  she  said,  when  her  circuit  was  complete. 

Rob,  however,  from  the  other  window-seat,  put  in 
a  question. 

"  Does  this  include  the  lusty  baby  boy  off  yonder  ?  " 
he  inquired,  in  hollow  accents.  "  If  it  does,  I  thank 
you,  I  have  a  previous  engagement  of  a  most  press- 
ing kind." 

However,  it  was  Rob  who  banged  with  the  Horth 
knocker,  that  same  evening,  Rob  in  his  state  array 


JANET  AT  ODDS  293 

and  smiling  from  ear  to  ear.  He  had  liked  Gladys 
Horth  extremely,  in  that  last  long  talk  of  theirs ;  he 
felt  certain  that  she  would  make  a  most  attractive 
hostess.  Moreover,  the  lusty  baby  boy  had  been  left 
behind  in  bed,  and  that  alone  was  a  sufficient  cause 
for  full  content  to  a  budding  Harvard  senior  who 
felt  far  more  interest  in  football  than  in  infant 
psychology.  And  yet,  now  and  then  in  the  past 
week,  Rob  had  regretted  that  his  lame  leg  had  knocked 
him  once  and  for  all  out  of  football.  There  had 
been  occasions  when  he  had  felt  convinced  that  the 
baby  would  have  made  an  excellent  substitute  for 
the  more  conventional  pigskin,  providing  he  himself 
were  on  the  playing  team.  Just  once,  he  mentioned 
this  belief  to  Amy  Pope.  Amy  had  snubbed  him 
rudely. 

"  You  probably  did  exactly  the  same  things,  your- 
self, when  you  were  a  little  baby,"  she  argued. 

Rob  produced  counter  argument,  and  it  was  a 
clincher. 

"  Look  at  my  mother !  She  has  n't  got  any  wrinkles 
down  beside  her  nose." 

"  Hush !  "  Amy  chid  him,  with  seeming  inconse- 
quence. "  Here  comes  Mrs.  Blanchard  now.  Still, 
it  isn't  all  the  baby;  a  part  of  it  is  Jack." 

The  baby,  then,  had  been  stowed  away  betimes, 
and  left  with  Mary  Browne  as  jailer,  since  Mrs. 
Blanchard,  as  now  and  then  occurred,  had  been  in- 
cluded in  the  invitation.  Dinner  over  and  the  last 
touch  added  to  their  toilettes,  they  had  sallied  forth, 


294  JANET  AT  ODDS 

Rob  in  the  lead  with  Day  and  Sidney,  Paul  and  Amy 
Pope  bringing  up  the  rear. 

Gladys  brushed  aside  the  maid  who  let  them  in, 
and  met  them  in  the  hall,  herself,  her  hands  held 
out  in  greeting.  She  was  more  enthusiastic  than  it 
was  her  wont  to  be,  more  elaborately  dressed  than 
usual.  They  all  took  silent  note  of  Ihe  fact,  silently 
wondered  what  could  be  its  explanation,  while  she 
chattered  on. 

"  It 's  so  good  of  you  all  to  come.  Janet,  let  Mr. 
Argyle  pull  you  out  of  that  coat,  while  I  help  Mrs. 
Blanchard  with  her  scarf.  Wait  one  minute.  It  is 
caught  on  your  comb.  It 's  so  cool,  to-night,  I  have 
a  fire  in  the  grate.  It  looks  cosy,  even  if  we  do  have 
to  open  all  the  windows.  Now,  if  you  're  ready, 
come  right  in  here."  And,  still  chattering,  she  led 
the  way  into  the  long  drawing-room,  dim,  fire-lighted 
and  full  of  comfort,  to  where  a  tall,  broad-shouldered 
figure  stood  beside  the  hearth.  "  Mr.  Blanchard  is 
here  ahead  of  you,"  she  added,  with  cheery  non- 
chalance. "  I  coaxed  him  to  come  down  in  time  for 
dinner." 

Then  she  stood  back  to  watch  the  successful  work- 
ing out  of  her  small  plan. 


CHAPTER    TWEOTY-OKE 

EALLY,  Amy,"  Janet  observed,  with  the 
British  bluntness  that  assailed  her  at  times; 
"  I  did  n't  think  you  would  look  so  very  ugly.  Else, 
I  never  would  have  told  you." 

"  Told  her  what  ?  " 

Janet  poured  another  cup  of  coffee,  passed  the  cup 
to  Paul ;  then  she  made  tranquil  answer,  — 

"  Told  her  what  Jack  said,  you  know." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"  Were  n't  you  there  ?  ~No  ?  "  Janet  raised  her 
brows.  "  ReaHy,  I  remember  now.  It  was  the  morn- 
ing you  and  Paul  were  kidnapping  the  baby,  the  day 
after  Amy  Browne  had  burned  off  all  her  hair." 

"  What  did  I  say  ?  "  Jack  asked  defensively,  for 
he  was  once  more  back  in  his  old  place  at  table,  as 
Gladys  had  made  sure  he  would  be.  "  I  don't  re- 
member at  all,  Amy ;  but  I  'm  willing  to  apologize 
in  advance." 

"  You  said  that  you  'd  rather  girls  did  n't  curl  up 
their  hair  and  do  things  of  that  sort ;  that  you  'd 
rather  we  'd  be  ugly  than  artificial,"  Janet  reminded 
him. 

There  came  a  chorus  of  protesting  shrieks,  in  the 
midst  of  which  Jack  laid  down  his  knife  and  fork  and 
clasped  his  hands. 


296  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Guilty,"  he  admitted  meekly.  "  However,"  he 
threw  an  expressive  glance  at  Amy  Browne  who  had 
appeared  at  breakfast,  shorn  of  her  becoming  fluffi- 
ness;  "however,  I  recant." 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  stick  to  your  guns,  Jack  ?  " 
Amy  Pope  demanded  in  disdain. 

Jack  picked  up  his  fork  once  more. 

"  Yes,  in  a  case  like  this.  You  see,  I  took  my 
position  in  a  hurry,  without  stopping  to  think  of  all 
the  consequences  it  might  involve,"  he  confessed. 
"  In  theory,  I  prefer  nature  unadorned ;  in  practice," 
his  eyes  twinkled,  as  he  looked  again  at  Amy  Browne's 
smooth,  shining  pate,  where  the  hair  lay  in  close 
bands  about  her  forehead ;  "  in  practice,  Amy,  I  be- 
seech you  to  fuzz  yourself  up  a  little  bit.  It  may 
not  be  an  elevated  taste;  but  I  do  think  it  makes 
you  look  a  whole  lot  prettier." 

"  But  what  ever  possessed  you  to  tell  Amy,  Janet  ?  " 
Sidney  asked,  when  the  laughter  had  subsided. 

"  I  thought  it  was  only  fair  for  her  to  know  it," 
Janet  returned,  with  a  second  attack  of  racial  blunt- 
ness.  "  She  has  been  more  curly  than  ever,  since 
Jack  came  back  here,  and,  when  I  knew  he  hated 
it  and  that  she  was  doing  it  on  his  account,  it  did  n't 
seem  just  fair  to  allow  it  to  go  on." 

Jack  looked  up  alertly. 

"  On  my  account,  Amy  ?  "  he  queried. 

Her  answer  held  no  touch  of  girlish  self -conscious- 
ness, none  of  coquetry. 

"  Certainly.     Lacking  a  fatted  calf  to  kill,  I  pro- 


JANET  AT  ODDS  297 

ceeded  to  adorn  myself.  How  else  could  you  know 
how  glad  I  was  to  see  you  ?  " 

How  else,  indeed  ?  Save  for  Janet  who  was  pas- 
sively polite,  impersonally  cordial,  the  entire  house- 
hold, down  to  Mary  Browne,  had  been  in  a  state  of 
extreme  jubilation  over  Jack's  return.  The  fact  of 
Jack's  return  had  been  established  beyond  a  doubt, 
before  they  had  left  Gladys  Horth's  that  night  a  week 
before.  It  was  Gladys  who  settled  the  matter,  Gladys, 
smiling,  tactful,  suave,  yet  so  masterful  that  Janet 
even  was  powerless  to  stand  out  against  her.  Gladys 
had  smoothed  over  the  momentary  embarrassment  of 
their  unexpected  meeting,  had  forestalled  Janet's 
hostility  by  taking  it  for  granted  that  Janet  was 
really  pining  to  see  Jack  again  and,  leaving  the  others 
to  amuse  themselves  as  best  they  could,  by  sitting 
down  to  gossip  with  them  in  a  corner.  She  had  en- 
gineered their  talk  up  to  the  very  moment  when  Janet 
was  beginning  to  enjoy  it ;  then  she  had  swept  Jack 
away  to  make  himself  useful  as  co-host.  Later,  it 
was  Jack,  not  Rob,  nor  Paul,  who  helped  to  serve  the 
coffee,  Jack  who  brought  out  the  card  tables,  mended 
the  fire,  Jack  to  whom  her  smiles  were  given.  Gladys 
understood  Janet  through  and  through.  Moreover, 
she  was  a  thorough  woman.  She  knew  that  Jack 
would  never  be  one  half  so  valuable  in  the  eyes  of 
Janet  Leslie  as  when  he  basked  in  the  smiles  of  one 
of  her  old-time  Canadian  girl  friends. 

Jack,  meanwhile,  although  slightly  mystified  by 
this  sudden  change  of  front,  yet  accepted  it  all  with 


298  JANET  AT  ODDS 


imperturbable  calm,  and  enjoyed  to  the  full  the  eager 
friendliness  of  his  dainty  little  hostess.  The  others, 
half  comprehending  and  wholly  in  sympathy  with 
Gladys'  plan,  whatever  it  might  prove  to  be,  threw 
themselves  heart  and  soul  into  making  the  evening 
a  success.  Gladys  would  have  achieved  that  selfsame 
end  without  help,  however.  For  the  moment,  she  was 
completely  mistress  of  the  situation,  and  there  was 
a  wicked,  victorious  little  sparkle  in  her  eyes  when, 
at  the  last,  she  put  Janet  down  to  play  cards  with 
Jack  as  partner  and  herself  and  Rob  as  opposites. 
The  sparkle  came  again,  when  they  all  rose  to  say 
good  night. 

"  How  soon  do  you  go  back  to  live  under  your 
mother's  wing,  Mr.  Blanchard  ? "  she  asked  auda- 
ciously. 

Before  there  could  come  even  an  instant's  pause, 
Rob  had  flung  himself  into  the  breach. 

"  I  say,  why  don't  you  come  along  up  with  us 
now  ?  "  he  inquired,  with  cheery,  casual  unconcern. 
"  You  might  as  well.  My  room  carries  double,  and 
I  hate  to  have  to  spread  all  over  it  alone.  Come 
along,  man ;  now  's  the  accepted  time." 

Gladys  nodded  in  quick  acquiescence. 

"  Do  you  mind  going  upstairs  to  telephone  ? "  she 
asked  Rob,  with  a  casualness  equal  to  his  own.  "  You 
may  as  well  settle  the  matter  with  the  Saint  Louis 
people  from  here,  so  his  things  will  be  sent  right 
up.  You  can  telephone,  while  Mr.  Blanchard  is 
hunting  up  my  mother.  I  think  you  '11  find  her  in 


JANET  AT  ODDS  299 


the  other  room.  Xo  ?  Janet  dear,  would  you  mind 
looking  in  her  room  upstairs  ?  " 

And,  by  the  time  Janet  had  reappeared  with  Mrs. 
Horth  beside  her,  the  matter  was  too  fully  decided 
to  make  any  indifference  on  Janet's  part  a  thing  to 
count,  one  way  or  the  other. 

That  had  been  a  full  week  before.  Since  that 
time,  Jack  had  ended  his  self-made  appointment,  had 
returned  his  misfit  uniform,  and  had  made  over  to 
Savarin,  now  convalescent,  the  three-weeks'  salary 
which  dwindled  into  nothing  in  comparison  with 
Mr.  Argyle's  check.  In  the  mere  matter  of  good 
will,  however,  the  one  was  as  valuable  as  the  other; 
and  little  Savarin  had  to  take  off  his  befogged  glasses, 
before  he  could  look  up  to  smile  his  thanks.  Jack 
had  nodded  in  careless  acquiescence,  wished  him  good 
luck,  promised  to  look  in  again  to  see  him  soon,  and 
gone  his  way.  For  him,  the  episode  was  ended. 

After  all,  though,  it  did  seem  rather  good  to  Jack 
to  settle  down  again  into  a  life  of  idleness,  to  punch 
no  more  blue  checks,  to  answer  no  more  inane  ques- 
tions, to  return  to  an  existence  where  tea  was  a  mere 
matter  of  the  day's  routine,  and  where  his  bedtime 
depended  solely  upon  his  own  preferences.  More- 
over, the  summer  was  waning  fast.  Here  and  there 
a  scarlet  maple  branch,  a  yellowing  birch  gave  'sign 
that  the  autumn  was  close  at  hand  and,  with  it,  their 
migration  southward.  Only  a  week  or  so  remained 
to  them  before  the  little  party  scattered,  and  of  their 
plans  there  were  yet  a  good  round  dozen  unfulfilled. 


300  JANET  AT  ODDS 

It  was  as  if,  with  the  beginning  of  the  tercentenary 
celebrations,  individual  plans  had  ceased  to  be.  After 
that  had  come  chaos :  Mary  Browne's  invalidism,  the 
Argyles'  going  away,  the  departure  of  Jack.  And 
then  had  come  the  baby. 

Moreover,  to  all  appearing,  the  baby  had  come  to 
stay.  In  regard  to  any  future  plans,  Amy  Pope  was 
reticent.  The  others,  as  the  days  went  on,  were  not 
reticent  in  the  least.  The  novelty  of  the  situation 
wore  off  more  swiftly  than  did  the  angles  of  the  baby's 
temper.  Besides,  they  had  planned  for  days  of  canoe- 
ing, days  spent  in  the  bush,  or  in  climbing  the  low 
mountains  beyond  Sainte  Anne.  Paul  had  insisted 
on  a  day  in  his  old  haunts  at  Grande  Riviere,  and 
there  was  even  talk  of  their  going  in  a  body  up  the 
Saguenay.  But  how  could  all  this  be  accomplished, 
when  they  had  upon  their  hands  this  baby  who  was 
so  prompt  about  resenting  the  least  hint  of  neglect  ? 

To  be  sure,  Mrs.  Blanchard  was  fast  becoming  the 
baby's  willing  slave;  but  some  of  those  same  expe- 
ditions demanded  Mrs.  Blanchard's  presence.  More- 
over, after  ten  nights  of  strenuous  activity  upon  the 
baby's  part,  Mrs.  Blanchard's  dark-ringed  eyes  and 
whitening  cheeks  bore  witness  to  the  strain  she  was 
enduring.  Not  all  the  good  will  in  the  world  can 
atone  for  lack  of  sleep.  One  morning  at  the  break- 
fast table,  Day  studied  Mrs.  Blanchard;  then  she 
had  it  out  with  Rob,  and  then  she  led  the  mutiny. 

"  Does  it  ever  strike  you,"  she  demanded  with 
deliberation,  as  she  walked  in  upon  a  sewing  bee 


JANET  AT  ODDS  301 

where  Irene  and  Sidney  and  the  Amys  were  busy 
with  white  nainsook  and  tiny  paper  patterns ;  "  has  it 
ever  struck  you  that  charity  begins  at  home  ?  " 

Amy  Pope  looked  up. 

"  Exactly,"  she  said  calmly.  u  Please  begin." 
And  she  offered  Day  a  threaded  needle. 

Day  waved  the  needle  aside. 

"  I  don't  mean  that,"  she  said,  quite  sternly  for 
easy-going  Day. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  then,  dearie  ?  "  But  Amy's 
eyes  belied  her  tone,  for  they  looked  a  little  guilty. 

"  I  mean  this,"  Day  said  bluntly.  "  If  you  girls 
want  to  make  geese  of  yourselves  over  a  baby  with 
nobody  knows  what  sort  of  inherited  queernesses, 
when  you  easily  can  afford  to  buy  him  clothes  and 
put  him  to  board  in  a  good  place,  you  are  quite  wel- 
come. What  is  it,  Amy  ?  " 

"  It  is  personal  effort  that  counts  in  a  case  like 
this,"  Amy  observed,  with  mock  sanctity. 

"  Personal  spankings,  you  'd  better  say !  "  Day 
made  energetic  answer.  "  He  is  certainly  the  Grossest 
baby  I  ever  set  my  eyes  on.  However,  if  you  think 
he  's  an  amusing  toy,  keep  him  and  welcome.  Still,  if 
you  do  keep  him,  you  ought  in  all  decency  to  keep 
him  all  the  time,  not  tuck  him  off  on  Mrs.  Blanchard, 
when  he  gets  to  be  too  much  for  you  to  manage." 

Irene  looked  up,  her  eyes,  too,  a  little  troubled. 

"  Really,  Day,  I  think  she  likes  the  little  fellow," 
she  said,  in  swift  defence. 

"  Perhaps  she  does.    So  do  you  like  Welsh  rarebit. 


302  JANET  AT  ODDS 


That 's  no  sign  it 's  good  for  you,"  Day  answered  un- 
compromisingly. "  Mrs.  Blanchard  is  growing  visibly 
less,  day  by  day.  If  that  child  keeps  on  raging,  all 
night  long,  the  poor  lady  will  fade  away  and  vanish 
before  our  very  eyes,  and  then  where  '11  we  be,  I  'd 
like  to  know,  without  our  lawful  chaperon  ?  Really 
and  truly,  girls,  it  is  n't  fair  at  all." 

"  But  if  she  insists  on  having  him  in  her  room, 
nights  ?  And  she  does,"  Amy  Browne  urged. 

"  Stand  on  your  heels,  and  tell  her  it  is  out  of  the 
question,"  Day  said  firmly.  "  Has  n't  it  occurred  to 
you  that  Mrs.  Blanchard  was  invited  to  be  here  as 
lady  of  the  manor  and  our  guest,  not  to  slave  as  baby- 
tender,  all  night  and  every  night?  I  have  been  ex- 
pecting, this  whole  week,  that  Jack  would  interfere. 
It  is  his  place ;  I  should  n't  blame  him,  if  he  did.  As 
long  as  he  does  n't  —  I  suppose  he  hates  to  do  it, 
when  we  're  all  girls  —  I  thought  it  was  about  time 
I  took  the  matter  up,  myself." 

"  What  do  you  want  us  to  do  about  it,  Day  ?  " 
Amy  Browne  queried  meekly,  for  it  was  not  often 
that  Day  Argyle  spoke  with  so  much  decision. 

The  decision  continued,  even  increased  a  little  bit. 

"  Either  send  the  child  away ;  or,  if  you  don't  do 
that,  then  insist  on  taking  the  care,  the  whole  care,  of 
him,  yourselves." 

A  little  silence  followed  Day's  ultimatum.  Amy 
Pope  broke  it,  and  her  voice  lacked  all  its  wonted  tone 
of  mockery. 

"  Just  give  me  two  days  more  grace,  Day,"  she 


JANET  AT  ODDS  303 

said  quietly.  "  Then  I  pledge  you  ray  word  I  '11  be 
good." 

But  Day,  once  her  point  was  gained,  swiftly  cast 
aside  her  unwonted  decision. 

"  All  right,  Amy,  two  days  it  is !  But  you  'd 
better  not  give  your  word  of  honour  that  the  baby 
will  be  good.  I  begin  to  think  he  never  can  be." 

Sidney  caught  up  Day's  mood  of  banter. 

"  How  many  babies  have  you  ever  known,  Day  ?  " 
she  inquired,  as  she  sheared  away  at  the  brief  white 
breadths  before  her. 

"  None  intimately.  However,  I  have  observed 
them  from  a  distance.  Speaking  of  babies,  where  is 
Bob?" 

"  In  his  room  with  Jack." 

Irene  laughed. 

"  Poor  Paul !  I  trust  he  does  n't  feel  his  nose  is 
out  of  joint.  He  and  Rob  were  just  beginning  to 
get  on  capitally,  and  —  " 

Amy  Pope  lifted  her  head  once  more. 

"  I  am  looking  out  for  Paul,"  she  reassured  Irene. 
"  He  and  the  infant  are  my  especial  charges." 

"  Look  out  that  they  don't  get  jealous  of  each  other, 
then,"  the  other  Amy  advised  her.  "  Do  you  suppose 
that  yoke  will  fit  any  mortal  infant  ?  "  She  held  it 
up  for  inspection.  "  It  looks  too  small  for  anything 
but  a  turkey's  neck."  She  shook  her  restored  fluff  of 
hair  dubiously.  Then  she  added,  "  We  've  called  all 
the  rest  of  the  roll.  Now  does  anybody  know  where 
Janet  is  keeping  herself,  this  morning  ? " 


304  JANET  AT  ODDS 

The  question  bro.ught  them  all  to  a  little  silence. 
Then  Sidney  suddenly  burst  out,  — 

"  Is  n't  it  all  horrid !  Don't  you  suppose  she  '11 
ever  come  back  to  her  old  self  ? " 

Day  sighed.     Then  she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  wish  I  knew.  I  wish  I  had  n't  started  the  plan 
for  this  party  —  for  I  suppose  1  really  was  the  one 
to  start  it.  The  summer  is  so  nearly  over,  we  must  go 
home  so  soon ;  and  it  seems  as  if  we  ought  n't  to  let 
it  end  in  a  fight  like  this." 

But  Irene  looked  up  sadly. 

"  It  takes  two  to  make  a  fight,"  she  said ;  "  and 
poor  Janet  is  doing  this  all  alone.  I  wish  I  knew 
just  how  to  end  it;  but  I  don't.  I  don't  know  her 
well  enough  to  dare  talk  it  over  with  her ;  I  should  be 
sure  to  say  the  wrong  thing,  and  make  it  worse  than 
ever.  And  —  really,  I  don't  see  how  we  can  well 
apologize." 

It  was  Amy  Browne  who  spoke  next,  quietly,  as 
was  her  wont,  yet  with  unwonted  dignity. 

"  I  should  be  ashamed  of  you,  if  you  did  apologize, 
Irene.  I  was  n't  in  it  at  the  very  first ;  I  have  kept 
out  of  it,  all  I  could,  have  sat  back  and  watched  it 
happen.  And  I  honestly,  truly  think  that  you  girls 
have  all  been  perfectly  fair  and  kind  to  Janet  Leslie." 

"  Perhaps.  I  hope  so,"  Irene  answered.  "  And 
yet,  we  can't  let  it  go  on  like  this  much  longer." 

Sidney  burst  out  for  a  second  time. 

"  After  all,  it  would  be  hard  to  say  what  It  is," 
she  said  flatly.  "  Now  that  Jack  is  back  here  again, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  305 

there  is  n't  a  thing  that  Janet  says  or  does  that  you 
can  find  any  fault  with.  She  is  perfectly  polite,  per- 
fectly good-tempered,  perfectly  gracious  —  " 

"  And  just  about  as  sweet  as  a  choke-cherry,"  Amy 
Pope  said  bluntly,  as  she  rose.  "  Still,  like  the 
cherry,  it 's  her  nature  to,  and  I  suppose  it  will  go  on 
until  the  end  of  time,  without  our  being  able  to  mend 
matters  in  the  very  least." 

And  the  sewing  bee  disbanded,  without  another 
word. 

In  fact,  to  all  seeming,  there  was  no  word  for  it  to 
say.  As  far  as  the  speakers  could  discover,  they  had 
spoken  not  merely  the  truth,  but  the  whole  truth  as 
well.  Outwardly  the  relations  between  Jack  and 
Janet  had  not  altered  in  the  very  least.  True,  he 
was  once  more  under  the  Leslie  roof;  but  Janet  took 
every  possible  occasion  to  insist  upon  the  imperson- 
ality of  the  make-up  of  her  house-party.  Not  that  she 
discussed  the  fact,  however;  she  merely  saw  to  it 
that  it  was  tacitly  understood;  saw  to  it  that  Jack 
realized  that  his  welcome  lay  in  other  hands  than  hers. 
Her  manner  to  him  was  unchanged.  There  was  the 
same  punctilious  politeness,  the  same  remote  courtesy, 
always  so  much  more  hostile  than  any  open  warfare. 

All  this  was  obvious  and  on  the  surface.  Never- 
theless, a  close  observer  might  have  made  out,  now  and 
then,  a  tiny  rent  in  Janet's  cloak  of  superiority,  a 
sudden  reservation,  as  if  she  checked  herself  upon  the 
very  verge  of  some  remark  which  might  lead  to  a 

change  in  the  whole  situation,  an  occasional  slight 

20 


306  JANET  AT  ODDS 

hesitation  as  if  she  were  not  sure  how  best  to  wear 
her  aggressive  armour,  or  as  if  she  even  felt  the  fret 
of  its  weight,  and  longed  to  cast  it  aside  once  and  for 
all.  For  the  present,  the  situation  was  unchanged. 
None  the  less,  as  the  days  went  on,  that  situation  held 
within  itself  a  little  edge  of  question  for  the  future. 

It  was  only  the  next  afternoon,  when  Amy  Pope 
came  prancing  into  the  library,  where  the  others  were 
trying  to  forget  a  pouring  rain  by  means  of  books  and 
sewing  and  a  Sally  Lunn  for  tea.  A  train  of  shrieks 
heralded  her  coming;  and,  when  she  did  appear,  the 
baby  rode  upon  her  shoulder,  his  fat  fists  clinched 
upon  a  handful  of  her  hair. 

Rob  looked  up  languidly  from  the  novel  on  his 
knee. 

"Did  urns?"  he  observed.  "Hullo,  Amy! 
What 's  up  now  ?  You  look  flustered." 

"  So  I  am."  Heedless  of  the  baby's  equilibrium, 
she  pirouetted  across  the  rug  and  back  again. 

"  What 's  the  rumpus  ?  " 

"  I  have  news,  great  news." 

"  Let  her  go,  then.  Maybe  you  '11  feel  better,  once 
it's  out." 

Amy  pulled  down  the  corners  of  her  mouth;  but 
no  effort  on  her  part  could  subdue  the  sparkle  in  her 
eyes. 

"  The  little  lambie  is  going  away,  to-morrow,  going 
away  from  us  for  ever,"  she  announced. 

"  Thanks  be ! "  Rob  answered  with  fervour. 
"  Who  's  the  victim  ?  " 


JANET  AT  ODDS  307 

Amy  paused  for  a  moment,  as  if  to  emphasize  a 
climax.  When  the  climax  came,  however,  it  needed 
no  artificial  emphasis. 

"Lady  Wadhams." 

"Amy!" 

"Amy  Mehitabel  Pope!" 

"By  thunder!" 

"  Yes."  Amy  slid  the  protesting  infant  from  her 
shoulder.  "  There,  dearest  babe,  go  sit  on  Uncle 
Robin's  knee,"  she  adjured  it. 

Rob  dodged. 

"  Not  if  I  know  myself !  Get  him  off,  Amy  Pope. 
Get  out !  " 

Amy  laughed,  transferred  the  burden  to  Jack,  and 
fell  to  rearranging  her  disordered  hair. 

"  I  done  it,"  she  said  vaingloriously  then. 

"Really?" 

"  The  Lady  Wadhams  that  was  here  ?  " 

"  But  how  did  you  ever  work  it,  Amy  ?  " 

And  the  baby,  excited  by  the  chorus  of  question, 
added  his  mite  to  the  conversation  by  giving  utterance 
to  a  long-winded  squeal  which  left  him  black  in  the 
face  and  strangling  audibly. 

"  Do  tell  us  all  about  it,  Amy,"  Sidney  besought 
her,  when  the  human  calliope  was  stilled. 

Amy  dropped  into  a  chair  and  faced  them,  beaming. 

"  It  was  this  way,"  she  explained  rapidly.  "  We 
took  the  baby.  There  was  n't  anybody  else.  Paul  and 
I  hunted  the  city  over  to  find  some  relations  for  him. 
It  seemed  a  shame  to  put  him  into  an  asylum,  for 


308  JANET  AT  ODDS 


really,  if  one  had  time  to  discipline  him,  he  would  n't 
be  so  very  horrid." 

"  Mm  —  possibly,"  Rob  conceded,  in  a  swift  aside 
to  any  one  whom  it  might  concern. 

But  Amy  swept  on. 

"  It  was  a  direct  leading  of  providence.  At  first,  I 
was  just  sorry  for  him,  and  trying  to  think  what 
could  be  done  with  him  to  keep  him  from  being  neg- 
lected. Then,  all  at  once,  it  struck  me  that,  one  day, 
Mary  Browne  had  said  Lady  Wadhams  would  better 
adopt  an  orphan,  instead  of  wasting  all  her  baby  talk 
on  that  idiot  of  a  poodle.  Really  and  truly,  the  baby 
did  seem  fully  as  forlorn  as  a  lost  puppy,  and  just 
about  as  useless,  so  I  brought  him  home  to  think  it 
over,  more  for  the  fun  of  it  than  for  anything  else. 
That  night,  I  happened  to  remember  —  really,  I 
never  had  connected  the  two  things  until  then  —  how 
I  had  heard  Lady  Wadhams  telling  Mrs.  Blanchard 
that  she  had  had  a  little  baby  who  only  lived  a  week, 
or  a  month,  or  something,  and  how  she  had  always 
meant  to  adopt  a  baby  boy,  only  she  never  seemed  to 
get  about  it.  I  was  reading  in  the  next  room,  while 
she  was  talking;  and  I  never  liked  her  half  so  well 
before.  She  was  n't  preposterous  in  the  least  —  not 
on  that  one  subject,  I  mean,"  Amy  corrected  herself 
hastily.  "  I  remembered  it,  that  first  night,  and  it 
set  me  to  thinking.  Next  day,  I  told  Paul,  and  he 
went  to  thinking,  too." 

"  Dangerous  business,"  Rob  said  gravely,  filling 
the  pause  while  Amy  caught  her  breath.  "  Hush,  you 


JANET  AT  ODDS  309 


little  beggar!  Listen  to  your  betters,  when  they  are 
talking." 

"  And,"  Amy  rushed  on  with  her  narrative ;  "  then 
Paul  wrote  to  his  mother  for  some  introductions,  to 
prove  we  were  n't  quite  crazy,  and  we  've  been  corre- 
sponding, ever  since.  That 's  why  I  begged  for  another 
day  or  two,  to  make  sure  the  matter  was  settled." 

"  And  is  it  ?  "  Irene  asked  her. 

Amy  rose.  Then  she  picked  up  the  baby  who 
was  endeavouring  to  garrote  Jack  by  means  of  his 
necktie. 

"  The  nurse  comes  down  from  Ottawa,  this  even- 
ing," she  made  laconic  answer.  "  Come  along,  infant, 
come  and  have  your  paddy-paws  washed,  and  do 
your  Auntie  Amy  credit."  And,  the  child  once  more 
upon  her  shoulder,  Amy  pranced  away  out  of  the 
room. 

A  pause  followed  her  going.     Then  Rob  spoke. 

"  Well,  I  am  blessed !  "  he  murmured. 

Jack  finished  the  untying  of  his  necktie,  tied  it 
up  again,  and  then,  — 

"  The  question  is,  will  Lady  Wadhams  be  ? "  he 
demanded  pointedly. 

And  no  one  dared  attempt  an  answer.  Instead, 
Paul  made  thoughtful  observation,  — 

"  The  poor  poodle !  " 


CHAPTER  TWENTY-TWO 

AFTER  all,  it  was  Amy  Pope  who  finally  had  it 
out  with  Janet,  Amy  who  had  predicted  that 
the  situation  was  bound  to  go  on  until  the  end  of 
time,  Amy  who,  aforetime,  had  expressed  herself  as 
dubious  concerning  Jack. 

"  It 's  the  inconsistency  of  the  thing  that  I  can't 
comprehend,"  she  told  Janet  flatly.  "  At  Smith,  you 
and  Jack  were  the  best  chums  possible.  Up  here  —  " 
She  let  her  sentence  die  away  to  an  expressive  pause. 

"  I  know  all  that,"  Janet  made  honest  answer. 
"  Down  there,  one  does  n't  think  so  much  about  such 
things.  Up  here,  among  all  my  friends,  it 's  dif- 
ferent." 

"  But,  if  they  don't  care,  why  should  you  ?  "  Amy 
demanded. 

Janet's  chin  lifted.    Her  reply  came  crisply. 

"  I  never  have  been  used  to  letting  my  friends  draw 
my  social  lines  for  me,"  she  announced. 

Amy  laughed. 

"  What  utter  nonsense !  Janet,  you  can  be  a  per- 
fect dear,  when  you  choose ;  but  you  'd  better  go  back 
again  over  your  first-year  course  in  logic.  Then  you 
would  n't  tangle  yourself  up  in  your  statements  as  you 
do.  If  your  friends  don't  draw  your  social  lines  for 
you,  why  in  the  world,  when  you  come  back  to  them, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  311 

do  you  have  to  rub  out  all  your  lines  and  have  their 
places  changed  ? " 

And  Janet,  opening  her  mouth  to  continue  her  own 
defence,  shut  it  again  and  fell  silent. 

It  was  now  three  days  since  the  baby,  kicking  madly, 
had  made  a  shrieking  exit  in  the  arms  of  a  crisp  and 
frilly  nursemaid.  The  entire  household,  even  to 
Mary  Browne,  had  assembled  on  the  steps  to  watch 
his  departure.  Then,  with  one  consent  and  with  the 
precision  of  a  military  drill,  the  group  had  faced 
inward,  and  a  deep  sigh  of  satisfaction  had  run 
around  the  circle.  Moreover,  the  satisfaction  had 
not  concerned  itself  solely  with  the  brightening  pros- 
pects of  the  child.  Notwithstanding  the  love  and  pity 
due  one's  lesser,  weaker  brethren,  even  Amy  Pope 
admitted  that  it  would  be  good  to  have  one  undis- 
turbed night's  rest. 

The  baby  gone,  that  problem  settled,  Amy  Pope 
promptly  attacked  the  remaining  unsolved  problem. 
In  characteristic  fashion,  she  rushed  upon  it  energet- 
ically and  without  forethought.  What  was  more,  she 
grappled  with  it  and  fought  it  to  a  finish,  although 
more  than  once  in  the  course  of  the  struggle  it  seemed 
a  matter  of  some  uncertainty  what  that  finish  was  to 
be.  Janet  had  come  down  to  breakfast,  that  morn- 
ing, in  a  mood  which  was  somewhat  akin  to  her  old- 
time  humanity.  Nevertheless,  it  had  been  the  merest 
chance  which  had  sent  her  and  Amy  Pope  into  Buade 
Street  at  the  same  hour.  They  met  in  front  of 
Renfrew's,  their  errands  done,  and,  lured  by  the 


312  JANET  AT  ODDS 

charm  of  the  cool  sunshine,  they  turned  by  tacit  con- 
sent, crossed  into  Anne  Street,  went  on  out  under  the 
Kent  Gate,  crossed  the  gray-walled  park  and  came 
into  the  Grande  Allee,  facing  westward.  Around 
them,  August  was  slowly  dying  into  autumn.  Now 
and  then  a  yellow  leaf  floated  downward  through  the 
windless  air ;  the  distant  views  of  hill  and  river  were 
already  putting  on  their  purple  robes,  and  in  the 
amethyst  light  the  scattered  villages  gleamed  like 
little  knots  of  lustrous  pearls.  Talking  idly  or  falling 
into  silence  as  they  chose,  the  two  girls  walked  on  and 
on,  out  the  Grande  Allee,  divested  now  of  all  its 
trumpery  decorations  and  returned  to  at  least  a  sem- 
blance of  its  former  dignity,  past  the  Plains  where 
only  the  trodden  grass  remained  to  tell  the  story  of 
the  summer's  pageantry,  and  on  again  until  Mount 
Hermon  was  behind  them  and  Sillery  Point  lay  at 
their  very  feet. 

Half  way  down  the  flight  of  steps  which  links  the 
church  above  to  the  purple  sands  beneath,  the  two 
girls  dropped  down,  partly  to  rest,  partly  to  enjoy 
the  picture  opening  out  before  them.  Beside  them, 
Wolfe's  Cove  was  a  mere  stretch  of  muddy  flats,  for 
the  tide  was  at  its  lowest  ebb.  Beyond,  the  twin  cities 
upon  either  bank  seemed  shaking  hands  across  the 
bending  stream ;  while,  to  the  westward,  the  river  lay 
outrolled,  a  mighty  roadway  leading  inland,  its  sur- 
face fretted  into  little  shining  waves,  like  gleaming 
eyes  winking  a  defiance  at  the  ruined  bridge  which 
huddled  prostrate,  crumpled,  upon  the  southern  shore, 


JANET  AT  ODDS  313 

powerless  to  throw  its  rein  across  the  unbridled 
might  of  the  majestic  stream.  And  behind  them,  the 
little  gothic  church,  perched  on  her  jutting  red-rock 
wall  of  cliff,  seemed  brooding  peacefully,  unchang- 
ingly above  the  ever-changing  river. 

The  picture  of  itself  was  quite  enough  to  hold  one 
speechless.  Yet  Amy,  though  her  eyes  were  wander- 
ing to  and  fro  across  the  landscape,  had  her  own  other 
reasons  for  her  silence.  All  at  once,  finding  her- 
self there  alone  with  Janet  Leslie  who,  as  a  rule,  had 
never  been  her  chosen  comrade,  there  had  flashed 
up  into  her  mind  the  memory  of  her  talk  with  Paul, 
the  night  before,  the  memory  of  the  sombre  grav- 
ity in  his  gray  eyes  as,  leaning  on  the  terrace  rail, 
he  had  rested  them  by  turns  upon  her  face  and  on 
the  moving  lights  that  flitted  to  and  fro  above  the 
inky  river. 

"  I  believe,"  he  had  burst  out  suddenly,  as  he 
halted  at  the  upper  end  of  the  terrace  and  plumped 
his  elbows  on  the  rail,  in  token  that  he  meant  to  stop 
there  for  a  little  while ;  "  I  believe  that,  after  all,  Pax 
vobiscum  is  a  good  deal  my  creed." 

Amy  laughed  scoffingly,  for  as  yet  she  had  no 
notion  that  Paul's  usual  mood  of  chaff  had  fled  away 
and  left  him  earnest. 

"  You !    You  're  a  born  squabbler,"  she  objected. 

Paul  rested  his  chin  on  his  fists,  then  turned,  fists 
and  all,  to  face  her.  In  the  glare  of  the  light  above 
their  heads,  Amy  was  surprised  at  the  expression  in 
his  honest  eyes. 


314  JANET  AT  ODDS 

"  Like  beauty,  it 's  only  just  skin  deep,"  he  told 
her,  after  a  little  pause.  "  Besides,  a  squabble  is  n't 
a  real  row.  What 's  more,  I  've  had  precious  little  ex- 
perience in  rows.  I  don't  seem  to  know  their  precise 
code  of  manners." 

"  You  mean  ?  "  Amy  asked  him,  with  a  glance  over 
her  left  shoulder. 

Paul  nodded. 

"  Yes,  Jack  and  Janet,  of  course.  To  my  mind, 
the  matter  is  a  good  deal  worse  than  ever.  I  'd  rather 
she  —  she  clawed  his  eyes  out  and  then  wept  over  the 
ruin  she  'd  created,  than  treated  him  in  this  sniffy 
fashion.  To  watch  her,  you  'd  think  he  had  done  her 
a  mortal  injury  in  letting  himself  be  insulted  by 
her.  Yes.  I  mean  insult.  It  amounts  to  that,  in 
the  long  run." 

"  And  yet,"  Amy  reflectively  traced  a  pattern  in 
the  dew  which  lay  heavy  on  the  iron  rail  before  her ; 
"  Janet  does  n't  really  do  a  single  thing." 

"  Of  course.  That 's  the  pesky  part  of  it  all," 
Paul  responded.  "  It 's  what  she  does  n't  do,  and 
the  way  she  goes  about  it,  that 's  the  trouble.  After  a 
fashion,  I  can't  help  liking  Janet;  we  used  to  be 
good  chums,  and  I  must  say  she  has  put  up  with  a  few 
expressions  of  my  candid  opinion  in  a  most  saintly 
fashion,  even  in  this  last  summer.  Still,  if  I  were  in 
Jack's  place,  Amy  Pope,  I  'd  be  hanged  if  I  would  n't 
knock  her  down." 

"  I  wish  he  would,"  Amy  made  unexpected  answer. 

Paul  shrugged  his  shoulders. 


JANET  AT  ODDS  315 

"  Horrid  bad  form,"  he  suggested  tersely.  "  She  's 
a  girl." 

"  Of  course.  It  would  n't  be  sanctified  for  him ; 
but  I  suspect  it  would  be  the  best  thing  in  the  world 
for  Janet.  She  needs  a  good,  sound  drubbing,  to 
bring  her  to  her  senses." 

There  came  another  pause,  before  Paul  spoke 
again. 

"  I  don't  pretend  to  know  any  too  much  about 
girls,"  he  said  slowly  then ;  "  but  I  've  a  sneaking 
notion  that  Janet  has  come  to  her  senses,  and  that 
that 's  the  clue  to  the  whole  trouble." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

Paul's  reply  was  pithy. 

"  It 's  a"  long  sight  easier  to  climb  gracefully  up  on 
one's  high  horse  than  to  climb  gracefully  down  again." 

"  Perhaps."  Amy  wiped  away  her  pattern  with 
her  muslin-puffed  elbows.  "  What  then  ?  "  she  made 
demand,  after  a  minute  or  two  of  futile  reflection. 

"  That  somebody  has  got  to  get  a  good  grip  on  her, 
and  then  yank  her  down,"  Paul  made  inelegant 
response.  "  What 's  more,  Amy,  I  rather  think  —  " 

"  Well  ?  "  she  prodded  him. 

"  Think  it 's  up  to  you." 

"Me?  I?  Paul!  I  won't!"  Amy  faced  him  in 
sudden  consternation. 

"  Don't  be  too  sure ;  at  least,  not  until  you  've  had 
a  chance  to  think  it  out,"  he  argued.  "  In  a  way, 
even  if  it  is  a  thankless  task,  there  's  a  good  deal  in 
your  favour.  On  your  own  showing,  you  've  never 


316  JANET  AT  ODDS 


been  especial  chums  with  either  Jack  or  Janet.  She 
can't  well  accuse  you  of  taking  sides.  The  others 
won't :  Sidney  because  she  does  n't  dare  trust  her 
temper,  Day  because  she  is  too  much  on  the  one  side, 
the  others  because  —  why,  because  it  is  n't  in  them. 
As  for  me,"  he  laughed  shortly ;  "  I  'm  a  boy.  It 
never  would  do  for  me  to  be  .tackling  a  girl.  But 
you  —  You  see'  all  sides  of  a  thing ;  you  go  straight 
to  your  point,  and,  what 's  more,  you  have  a  trick  of 
not  putting  a  fellow's  back  up  by  the  way  you  go 
about  it" 

Amy's  smile  was  very  gentle.  In  all  her  popular 
young  life,  she  had  never  had  a  compliment  that 
pleased  her  more. 

"  Thank  you,  Paul,"  she  answered  slowly.  "  I  'm 
glad  if  I  've  seemed  that  way  to  you.  But,  about 
Janet,  I  really  could  n't  do  it.  I  should  only  make 
more  trouble,  not  prevent  it." 

"  Not  you,"  he  urged.  "  You  could  do  it  all  right, 
and  —  really,  it  must  be  done."  His  eyes  dropped  to 
the  river  below,  and  he  spoke  more  slowly,  with  a 
lowered  voice  and  level  accent.  "  Amy,"  he  went  on ; 
"  do  you  know  I  can't  help  feeling  there  's  a  certain 
disgrace  about  this  thing,  a  certain  shame  hanging 
around  us  all.  It  really  does  n't  sound  a  pretty  sort 
of  story,  our  coming  up  here  to  spend  the  summer  and 
have  a  rousing  time  of  it  together,  and  then  our  getting 
into  a  fight  that  would  disgrace  a  slum  kindergarten. 
In  a  way,  of  course,  we  did  n't  make  the  fight.  Still, 
we  're  all  in  it  more  or  less,  all  a  little  bit  to  blame." 


JANET  AT  ODDS  317 

"  We  're  not  to  blame,  Paul,"  Amy  objected 
quickly. 

But  Paul  maintained  his  ground,  unshaken  by  the 
vehemence  of  her  protest. 

"  Once  a  row  of  this  kind  is  on,"  he  told  her 
gravely ;  "  there  's  a  blame  hanging  on  to  every  single 
fellow  who  looks  on,  without  doing  his  level  best  to 
break  it  up." 

The  band,  far  down  the  terrace,  filled  the  pause 
with  God  Save  the  King.  That  ended,  Paul  put  on 
his  cap,  crossed  his  arms  upon  the  rail  before  him, 
and  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  I  hate  like  fury  to  lose  a  chum,"  he  said  incon- 
sequently. 

Amy  made  no  pretext  of  a  lack  of  comprehension. 

"  You  '11  find  her  again,"  she  predicted  confidently. 

Paul  shook  his  head. 

"  Mayhaps,"  he  answered,  and  his  accent  was  a 
little  dreary.  "  I  'm  willing  to  go  three  quarters  of 
the  way;  but,  in  a  case  like  this,  all  my  sense  of 
justice  makes  me  wait  for  her  to  take  the  first  step. 
And,  what 's  more,"  he  shook  his  head  again ;  "  know- 
ing Janet  Leslie  as  I  do,  I  'm  precious  fearful  she  '11 
never  take  it." 

Against  the  background  of  the  shining  river  and 
of  the  sunny  purple  hills,  the  little  scene  flashed  up 
again  before  Amy's  thoughtful  eyes.  She  could  see  it 
all  quite  plainly:  Paul's  strong,  wide  shoulders,  his 
earnest,  freckled  face,  his  troubled  eyes,  could  even 
hear  the  dropping  note  of  sorrow  in  his  voice.  She 


318  JANET  AT  ODDS 

had  liked  his  depression,  knowing,  as  she  did,  its 
cause.  She  had  liked  his  arguments,  his  sense  of  the 
responsibility  that  lay  upon  them  all,  liked,  above 
all,  his  loyal  regret  for  his  broken  trust  in  his  old- 
time  chum.  And  beside  her  the  chum  was  sitting 
now,  her  chin  on  her  hands,  her  sharp  eyes  grown 
strangely  gentle  with  some  hidden  thought  which 
was  curling  the  corners  of  her  lips  into  a  smile  far 
more  attractive  than  any  they  had  worn  for  many  a 
week. 

Amy  watched  her  silently  for  a  moment,  letting  one 
picture  rest  upon  the  other,  as  if  to  form  a  composite 
photograph  of  the  good  will  which  yet  might  come 
again  between  them.  Then,  — 

"  Janet  ?  "  she  said  suddenly. 

Without  speaking,  even  without  losing  her  con- 
tented little  smile,  Janet  turned  her  dreamy  eyes  on 
her  companion. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Do  you  realize  how  nearly  the  summer  is  over  ?  " 

For  her  sole  response,  Janet  pointed  to  the  yellow- 
ing trees  that  backed  the  Cove  upon  their  left.  Then 
she  resumed  her  old  position. 

"  And  it  might  have  been  so  perfect,"  Amy  went 
on  slowly.  "  Dearie,  I  only  wish  it  had." 

To  her  surprise,  Janet  did  not  resent  her  words. 
Instead,  she  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  I  wish  so,  too.     Still,  I  suppose  it  could  n't." 

"Why  not?" 

"  We  did  n't  fit.     People  don't,  always,  when  you 


JANET  AT  ODDS  319 

get  them  under  one  roof,  no  matter  what  good  friends 
they  Ve  been  before.  And  then,  besides  —  "  She 
hesitated,  paused. 

"  Yes,"  Amy  told  her  fearlessly ;  "  besides  that, 
there  was  Jack." 

Slowly  Janet  nodded,  once  and  yet  again. 

"  Yes,"  she  assented  gravely.  "  Yes,  there  was 
always  Jack  —  and  me." 

For  a  minute,  Amy's  fingers  shut  together,  as  if 
she  gripped  something,  possibly  her  courage,  between 
her  strong,  brown  little  hands.  Then  she  turned  to 
Janet,  and,  turning,  her  gravity  matched  Janet's 
own. 

"  Janet,  dear,"  she  said  then ;  "  there  are  two  sides 
to  any  question  that  comes  up.  Still,  I  don't  know 
but  it 's  something  worth  the  doing,  to  prove  to  the 
world  at  large  that  a  railroad  uniform  may  possibly  be 
holding  a  man  inside  it." 

The  words  were  quiet,  friendly,  wholly  kind;  yet 
Amy's  courage  failed  her,  as  she  saw  the  scarlet  tide 
roll  up  across  Janet's  cheeks  and  brow.  For  one  in- 
stant, Janet's  composure  left  her;  her  face  broke 
away  from  its  steady  lines.  Then  she  rallied  swiftly, 
and,  turning,  she  shut  her  hands  on  those  of  Amy. 

"  I  do  know  it,"  she  said  breathlessly.  "  What  is 
more,  I  told  Jack  Blanchard  so,  last  night." 

But  not  all  of  Amy's  tact  and  petting  could  ever 
bring  Janet  Leslie  to  disclose  Jack's  answer. 

THE    END 


ANNA      CHAPIN      RAY'S 

"SIDNEY"    STORIES 


Having  completed  the  "  Teddy  "  books,  which  delighted  and  continue  to  entertain 
thousands  of  readers,  Miss  Ray  in  her  new  "  Sidney  "  books  utilizes  new  scenes  and 
an  entirely  new  set  of  characters. 

Anna  Chapin  Ray  is  to  the  present  generation  of  youthful  readers  what  Louisa  M. 
Alcott  was  to  her  generation.  Her  stories  may  be  commended  for  their  straight- 
forward, simple  style,  their  clean  atmosphere,  and  their  uplifting  influence  on  the 
characters  of  all  who  peruse  them.  —  Boston  Transcript. 


SIDNEY:    HER   SUMMER   ON   THE 
ST.  LAWRENCE 

Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.     i2mo.    $1.50. 

Sidney  Stayre  is  another  of  this  author's  true,  helpful,  earnest  girl  characters. — 
Denver  Republican. 

JANET:  HER  WINTER  IN  QUEBEC 

Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.     iamo.    $1.50. 

Gives  a  delightful  picture  of  Canadian  life  and  introduces  a  group  of  young  people 
who  are  bright  and  wholesome  and  good  to  read  about. — New  York  Globe. 

DAY:    HER   YEAR   IN    NEW   YORK 

Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     I2mo.    $1.50. 

The  third  volume  of  the  "Sidney  Books,"  in  which  Phyllis,  Sidney's  younger 
sister,  develops  from  a  well-meaning  blunderer  into  an  affectionate,  tactful  character. 
—  The  Bookman,  New  York. 

SIDNEY   AT   COLLEGE 

Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     I2mo.    $1.50. 

In  this  new  volume  Sidney  Stayre  is  shown  as  a  freshman  at  Smith  College,  en- 
joying to  the  full  the  pleasures  that  fill  her  days,  having  her  individual  difficulties, 
and  with  all  the  freshman's  adoration  for  upper  class  girls  and  happenings. 


LITTLE,  BROWN,  fc?  COMPANY,  Publishers 
254  WASHINGTON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 


ANNA     CHAPIN      RAY'S 

"TEDDY"   STORIES 


Miss  Ray's  work  draws  instant  comparison  with  the  best  of  Miss  Alcott's :  first, 
because  she  has  the  same  genuine  sympathy  with  boy  and  girl  life  ;  secondly, 
because  she  creates  real  characters,  individual  and  natural,  like  the  young  people 
one  knows,  actually  working  out  the  same  kind  of  problems  ;  and,  finally,  because 
her  style  of  writing  is  equally  unaffected  and  straightforward. — Christian  Register, 
Boston. 

TEDDY:   HER    BOOK.      A  Story  of  Sweet  Sixteen 

Illustrated  by  Vesper  L.  George.     12010.     $1.50. 

This  bewitching  story  of  "Sweet  Sixteen,"  with  its  earnestness,  impetuosity, 
merry  pranks,  and  unconscious  love  for  her  hero,  has  the  same  spring-like  charm. — 
Kate  Sanborn. 

PHEBE:   HER  PROFESSION.     A  Sequel  to  "Teddy: 

Her  Book" 

Illustrated  by  Frank  T.  Merrill.     I2mo.     $1.50. 

This  is  one  of  the  few  books  written  for  young  people  in  which  there  is  to  be 
found  the  same  vigor  and  grace  that  one  demands  in  a  good  story  for  older  people. 
—  Worcester  Spy. 

TEDDY:    HER   DAUGHTER 

A  Sequel  to  "Teddy:  Her  Book,"  and  "  Phebe  :  Her  Profession" 

Illustrated  by  J.  B.  Graff.     i2mo.     $1.50. 

It  is  a  human  story,  all  the  characters  breathing  life  and  activity. — Buffalo  Times. 

NATHALIE'S    CHUM 

Illustrated  by  Ellen  Bernard  Thompson.     I2mo.     $1.50. 

Nathalie  is  the  sort  of  a  young  girl  whom  other  girls  like  to  read  about. — Hartford 

Cou  rant, 

URSULA'S  FRESHMAN.  A  Sequel  to  "Nathalie's  Chum" 
Illustrated  by  Harriet  Roosevelt  Richards.     I2mo.     $1.50. 
The  best  of  a  series  already  the  best  of  its  kind.  —  Boston  Herald. 

NATHALIE'S  SISTER.     A*ffi  t0  "  UrSUla>S  FrCSh" 

Illustrated  by  Alice  Barber  Stephens.     i2mo.     $1.50. 
Peggy,  the  heroine,  is  a  most  original  little  lady  who  says  and  does  all  sorts  of 
interesting  things.    She  has  pluck  and  spirit,  and  a  temper,  but  she  is  very  lovable, 
and  girls  will  find  her  delightful  to  read  about. — Louisville  Evening  Post. 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  &  COMPANY,  Publishers 
254  WASHINGTON  ST.,  BOSTON,  MASSACHUSETTS 


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